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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Fear to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roy Ayers,
The Young Rascals,
ABBA,
Hardrive,
Organ,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Radiopuhelimet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Trojans,
Kevin Saunderson,
Easy Going,
Charles Mingus,
The Index,
The Smoke,
Sister Nancy,
Dark Day,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Faust,
The Moody Blues,
Lakeside,
the Association,
Kurtis Blow,
Toni Rubio,
Young Marble Giants,
Minor Threat,
Tom Boy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Buzzcocks,
Donny Hathaway,
Arthur Verocai,
Index,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Pop Group,
Yazoo,
The Saints,
New Order,
Sugar Minott,
The Kinks,
Suburban Knight,
The Litter,
Bronski Beat,
The Durutti Column,
Q and Not U,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Birthday Party,
Radio Birdman,
The Neon Judgement,
Massinfluence,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mo-Dettes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scratch Acid,
Sam Rivers,
Alphaville,
Maurizio,
Mission of Burma,
Soul Sonic Force,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.