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 Uganda and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Wasted Youth to the grunge 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Terry,
Nas,
Black Pus,
Tommy Roe,
Robert Görl,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Deakin,
Rufus Thomas,
Babytalk,
Lou Reed,
Talk Talk,
Man Parrish,
Sister Nancy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Neu!,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Flesh Eaters,
Monolake,
Metal Thangz,
Audionom,
Mandrill,
Black Bananas,
EPMD,
Carl Craig,
Johnny Clarke,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rosa Yemen,
Aloha Tigers,
Young Marble Giants,
Can,
Aaron Thompson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
MDC,
Albert Ayler,
One Last Wish,
New Age Steppers,
The New Christs,
The Leaves,
Andrew Hill,
Faust,
Howard Jones,
Joe Smooth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lyres,
Ludus,
Pole,
Popol Vuh,
Bobby Byrd,
Moss Icon,
Procol Harum,
Pylon,
Mr. Review,
the Bar-Kays,
Neil Young,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Slits,
Gang of Four,
Wally Richardson,
The Evens,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.