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 Poland and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Sound Behaviour,
Skriet,
Rosa Yemen,
Black Moon,
Jawbox,
Jandek,
Bobby Sherman,
Carl Craig,
Qualms,
June of 44,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Thee Headcoats,
The Music Machine,
Y Pants,
Eve St. Jones,
The Dave Clark Five,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Star Department,
Moby Grape,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Gun Club,
Erykah Badu,
Peter & Gordon,
Marvin Gaye,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wire,
Fat Boys,
Lalo Schifrin,
Joey Negro,
Deepchord,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ossler,
Iggy Pop,
Excepter,
48th St. Collective,
The Standells,
Boredoms,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Siglo XX,
Sugar Minott,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cheater Slicks,
Gastr Del Sol,
X-101,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Bananas,
Delon & Dalcan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Laurel Aitken,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Infiniti,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hot Snakes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joyce Sims,
The Names,
Interpol,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fall,
Radiohead,
Nation of Ulysses,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.