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 Lebanon and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Traffic Nightmare to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
ABBA,
Bad Manners,
the Germs,
The Monochrome Set,
Wolf Eyes,
cv313,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Deadbeat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Cramps,
B.T. Express,
Cecil Taylor,
Charles Mingus,
Aloha Tigers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Lindisfarne,
Niagra,
Blake Baxter,
Gong,
The Slackers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eurythmics,
UT,
The Tremeloes,
Fad Gadget,
Bobby Sherman,
Marmalade,
The Misunderstood,
Black Flag,
Crooked Eye,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rakim,
Babytalk,
Negative Approach,
Pussy Galore,
The Last Poets,
The Shadows of Knight,
Aswad,
Agent Orange,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Subhumans,
Andrew Hill,
Spoonie Gee,
Ronan,
Michelle Simonal,
Lucky Dragons,
Sparks,
Camouflage,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Standells,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Prince Buster,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Gang Gang Dance,
Alice Coltrane,
Curtis Mayfield,
Soft Cell,
Mission of Burma,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.