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 Sudan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Organ 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fugs,
Aloha Tigers,
ABC,
Q and Not U,
Mission of Burma,
Reuben Wilson,
The Leaves,
The Five Americans,
Robert Hood,
Altered Images,
ABBA,
Agent Orange,
Isaac Hayes,
The Seeds,
Barry Ungar,
Roxy Music,
The Neon Judgement,
The Kinks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Siglo XX,
Jawbox,
Terry Callier,
Ice-T,
Donald Byrd,
Bootsy Collins,
Andrew Hill,
Jeff Lynne,
Archie Shepp,
Sister Nancy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jimmy McGriff,
Japan,
Schoolly D,
Nick Fraelich,
Derrick Morgan,
Lalo Schifrin,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Harpers Bizarre,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gregory Isaacs,
X-101,
Soulsonic Force,
Television,
Sun Ra,
Suicide,
Black Sheep,
The Tremeloes,
The Martian,
Outsiders,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Joey Negro,
Wasted Youth,
48th St. Collective,
Maurizio,
Supertramp,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eddi Front,
Maleditus Sound,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.