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 Sri Lanka and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Scott Walker to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Siglo XX,
the Germs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Andrew Hill,
T.S.O.L.,
The Velvet Underground,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Black Dice,
Magma,
EPMD,
Scientists,
Mantronix,
Peter & Gordon,
Brothers Johnson,
Bush Tetras,
Dual Sessions,
Gong,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Cramps,
Sonic Youth,
Sam Rivers,
Organ,
Stereo Dub,
Metal Thangz,
Quadrant,
ABC,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joy Division,
Shoche,
Main Source,
Radiohead,
Marmalade,
Tim Buckley,
Monolake,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lebanon Hanover,
Excepter,
Anakelly,
The Sonics,
Spandau Ballet,
Negative Approach,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pylon,
Ronnie Foster,
The Young Rascals,
Bluetip,
Kas Product,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
D'Angelo,
Flash Fearless,
Throbbing Gristle,
Camouflage,
ABBA,
Donny Hathaway,
Marc Almond,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Lydon,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.