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 Cape Verde and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Michael McDonald 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 Suicide to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Sandy B,
The Dirtbombs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Scion,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Zapp,
Television Personalities,
Magma,
Marine Girls,
Gang Gang Dance,
Clear Light,
Avey Tare,
Soft Machine,
Hot Snakes,
Derrick May,
Von Mondo,
Warsaw,
Scott Walker,
The Durutti Column,
The Selecter,
Moss Icon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The J.B.'s,
Donny Hathaway,
Ituana,
Stereo Dub,
Cal Tjader,
Terry Callier,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Piero Umiliani,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Evens,
Buzzcocks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pussy Galore,
Gabor Szabo,
Hoover,
The Dave Clark Five,
Graham Central Station,
Sight & Sound,
Quantec,
Blossom Toes,
The Mojo Men,
The Five Americans,
Camouflage,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mandrill,
Jacques Brel,
Altered Images,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Interpol,
Jawbox,
Thompson Twins,
Sonic Youth,
Colin Newman,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.