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 Mali and from Seoul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Juan Atkins to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Circle Jerks,
Eli Mardock,
Max Romeo,
Black Bananas,
The Grass Roots,
Slick Rick,
Girls At Our Best!,
CMW,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Unwound,
Marine Girls,
E-Dancer,
The Dead C,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Porter Ricks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scan 7,
Flipper,
Dawn Penn,
Echospace,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Liliput,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Index,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sexual Harrassment,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mr. Review,
Sparks,
Section 25,
Jacques Brel,
Rod Modell,
Ludus,
The Star Department,
Public Image Ltd.,
Metal Thangz,
Amazonics,
Tears for Fears,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Gang Gang Dance,
8 Eyed Spy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bluetip,
Underground Resistance,
The Wake,
Eve St. Jones,
The J.B.'s,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rakim,
The Names,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bob Dylan,
Warsaw,
The Velvet Underground,
The Vogues,
The Count Five,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jandek,
Dual Sessions,
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.