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 Laos and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Erykah Badu to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Pulsallama,
Rekid,
Clear Light,
Quantec,
X-Ray Spex,
Underground Resistance,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nico,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Moon,
Davy DMX,
Joensuu 1685,
Donald Byrd,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marine Girls,
Los Fastidios,
Fear,
Buzzcocks,
Ronnie Foster,
Crash Course in Science,
Technova,
The American Breed,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Funkadelic,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Busters,
Ponytail,
Cymande,
Aswad,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pet Shop Boys,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Agitation Free,
Subhumans,
EPMD,
Jeff Lynne,
Crooked Eye,
Audionom,
Cal Tjader,
Urselle,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Quando Quango,
the Swans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
B.T. Express,
Cybotron,
Jerry's Kids,
Minutemen,
Neu!,
Brass Construction,
Fat Boys,
The Gap Band,
Kaleidoscope,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.