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 Slovakia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Beijing.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 ABC to the techno 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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Nick Fraelich,
The Pretty Things,
Deakin,
David Axelrod,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bill Near,
Dawn Penn,
Fugazi,
Mad Mike,
Surgeon,
Basic Channel,
The Searchers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rakim,
E-Dancer,
Cluster,
Camouflage,
Albert Ayler,
Los Fastidios,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wolf Eyes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultra Naté,
The Zeros,
Motorama,
The Cramps,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Happenings,
Qualms,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crime,
The Human League,
Clear Light,
Matthew Halsall,
Sexual Harrassment,
These Immortal Souls,
L. Decosne,
Roy Ayers,
The Standells,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Camberwell Now,
The Fall,
The United States of America,
Pharoah Sanders,
Section 25,
Gerry Rafferty,
Echospace,
Groovy Waters,
Kaleidoscope,
Drive Like Jehu,
EPMD,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.