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 Somalia 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Minny Pops to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
The Mummies,
Blossom Toes,
The Searchers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Pus,
Pharoah Sanders,
Goldenarms,
Suicide,
Erykah Badu,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Wake,
Von Mondo,
Technova,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Visage,
Connie Case,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Normal,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
New Age Steppers,
Black Moon,
The Fire Engines,
Section 25,
Spandau Ballet,
Skarface,
Lindisfarne,
Mo-Dettes,
Duran Duran,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mark Hollis,
Hasil Adkins,
Sonic Youth,
Roy Ayers,
Supertramp,
Flipper,
The Walker Brothers,
Porter Ricks,
Gang Starr,
Vainqueur,
Index,
Half Japanese,
Oneida,
Aaron Thompson,
The United States of America,
Circle Jerks,
Severed Heads,
The Durutti Column,
The Black Dice,
Moss Icon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Flag,
Cal Tjader,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Neil Young,
FM Einheit,
Jawbox,
Deepchord,
Gang Green,
Bronski Beat,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.