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 Bhutan and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 H. Thieme to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Alice Coltrane,
T.S.O.L.,
Subhumans,
Rekid,
Funkadelic,
Severed Heads,
Ken Boothe,
Boogie Down Productions,
Theoretical Girls,
Pantytec,
T. Rex,
Black Bananas,
Roger Hodgson,
Schoolly D,
Outsiders,
The Gladiators,
Ronnie Foster,
Pagans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Agitation Free,
Moebius,
Tommy Roe,
Hot Snakes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sister Nancy,
Max Romeo,
Little Man,
PIL,
The Five Americans,
Vainqueur,
Traffic Nightmare,
Animal Collective,
Skarface,
The Martian,
Underground Resistance,
Quando Quango,
Eli Mardock,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Khruangbin,
Technova,
Rotary Connection,
Vladislav Delay,
Ornette Coleman,
Graham Central Station,
The Pop Group,
Ice-T,
Sight & Sound,
Bob Dylan,
Maleditus Sound,
the Sonics,
Kaleidoscope,
Yazoo,
Siglo XX,
Bobby Byrd,
Y Pants,
Anthony Braxton,
The Trojans,
Cybotron,
Laurel Aitken,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.