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 Gabon and from Calgary.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 New Age Steppers to the jazz 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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rites of Spring,
Minor Threat,
the Sonics,
Monks,
Duran Duran,
Freddie Wadling,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Mummies,
Juan Atkins,
Aloha Tigers,
Guru Guru,
Section 25,
Graham Central Station,
Half Japanese,
Procol Harum,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lungfish,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rekid,
Fad Gadget,
Little Man,
Gerry Rafferty,
Andrew Hill,
Michelle Simonal,
Tom Boy,
Lucky Dragons,
Blancmange,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Techniques,
Arthur Verocai,
Hoover,
The Fortunes,
Lyres,
kango's stein massive,
Circle Jerks,
Adolescents,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Kinks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crooked Eye,
Hasil Adkins,
Excepter,
Saccharine Trust,
Sixth Finger,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mark Hollis,
Unrelated Segments,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bobby Byrd,
In Retrospect,
Mars,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Eve St. Jones,
Gabor Szabo,
Oneida,
John Lydon,
Accadde A,
The Offenders,
June of 44,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pole,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.