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 Namibia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin 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 The Searchers to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
cv313,
Ronnie Foster,
Jeru the Damaja,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Severed Heads,
Dennis Brown,
Gastr Del Sol,
B.T. Express,
The Busters,
The Misunderstood,
Eden Ahbez,
the Sonics,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fire Engines,
Connie Case,
KRS-One,
Silicon Teens,
Lucky Dragons,
The Young Rascals,
Rufus Thomas,
F. McDonald,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
David Axelrod,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Von Mondo,
Juan Atkins,
Roxette,
The Fugs,
DNA,
Alice Coltrane,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wire,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Hashim,
Soft Machine,
Yazoo,
The Knickerbockers,
Angry Samoans,
Scientists,
Joey Negro,
the Bar-Kays,
James White and The Blacks,
Maleditus Sound,
Moebius,
Saccharine Trust,
Gang Starr,
Pere Ubu,
The Motions,
John Cale,
Essential Logic,
Byron Stingily,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Wake,
The Cowsills,
Fugazi,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mission of Burma,
Lightning Bolt,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.