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 Papua New Guinea and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lungfish to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Neil Young,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cal Tjader,
Archie Shepp,
Scion,
Aloha Tigers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Desert Stars,
Max Romeo,
Jawbox,
R.M.O.,
a-ha,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mr. Review,
Lightning Bolt,
Franke,
Lungfish,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Minny Pops,
Josef K,
Echospace,
The Stooges,
The Fugs,
Hoover,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mark Hollis,
Royal Trux,
The United States of America,
The Searchers,
Lou Christie,
Siglo XX,
The Dead C,
Joyce Sims,
Steve Hackett,
The Pretty Things,
Skriet,
Fluxion,
F. McDonald,
Ronnie Foster,
Sun City Girls,
Guru Guru,
The Leaves,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aural Exciters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Doors,
Man Parrish,
Reuben Wilson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sonic Youth,
Black Moon,
Basic Channel,
Vladislav Delay,
The Five Americans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Robert Hood,
Jacob Miller,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Thee Headcoats,
Pussy Galore,
Donny Hathaway,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.