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 France and from Edmonton.
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 Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe 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 Popol Vuh to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Kevin Saunderson,
This Heat,
Theoretical Girls,
Ludus,
Gastr Del Sol,
Connie Case,
Easy Going,
Shoche,
Barclay James Harvest,
Suicide,
Roxette,
Faraquet,
The Angels of Light,
Boz Scaggs,
the Association,
The Music Machine,
48th St. Collective,
Country Teasers,
Intrusion,
Bizarre Inc.,
ABBA,
Smog,
Derrick Morgan,
Graham Central Station,
Moss Icon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cameo,
R.M.O.,
The Offenders,
Brothers Johnson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric Dolphy,
Blossom Toes,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Cramps,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Beau Brummels,
Schoolly D,
Janne Schatter,
Supertramp,
Slave,
Alison Limerick,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lightning Bolt,
Man Parrish,
B.T. Express,
Minnie Riperton,
Technova,
Lalann,
John Lydon,
Laurel Aitken,
Moebius,
KRS-One,
The Saints,
Livin' Joy,
The Young Rascals,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.