Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Dominican Republic and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Fela Kuti to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Harry Pussy,
Swans,
Pet Shop Boys,
Aural Exciters,
Fat Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rotary Connection,
Parry Music,
Mo-Dettes,
the Germs,
The Monochrome Set,
Nas,
New Order,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Slits,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eden Ahbez,
Wally Richardson,
AZ,
Robert Hood,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fluxion,
Magma,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jawbox,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Kayak,
Deakin,
Trumans Water,
Traffic Nightmare,
Make Up,
Quadrant,
OOIOO,
Rufus Thomas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ossler,
Technova,
Suicide,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Bananas,
The Doors,
The Martian,
Sight & Sound,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ken Boothe,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Barclay James Harvest,
Josef K,
Harpers Bizarre,
Terrestrial Tones,
Grey Daturas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Dirtbombs,
Johnny Clarke,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jerry's Kids,
Lakeside,
The Durutti Column,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fear,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.