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 Syria and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 harpsichord 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 Pagans to the jazz 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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Khruangbin,
Ossler,
Altered Images,
Tommy Roe,
Nico,
Nick Fraelich,
These Immortal Souls,
Drexciya,
MC5,
Los Fastidios,
JFA,
10cc,
Lucky Dragons,
Brass Construction,
Echospace,
Lungfish,
Robert Görl,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Minutemen,
June Days,
Delta 5,
ABC,
Erasure,
Unrelated Segments,
Sällskapet,
F. McDonald,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Monolake,
Laurel Aitken,
Symarip,
Simply Red,
Gong,
Kool Moe Dee,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Niagra,
Swell Maps,
Fugazi,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sandy B,
Parry Music,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Visage,
The Trojans,
Barry Ungar,
Stiv Bators,
David Axelrod,
The Star Department,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kaleidoscope,
Pierre Henry,
Bootsy Collins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Spoonie Gee,
Depeche Mode,
The Human League,
Buzzcocks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Byron Stingily,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.