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 Bolivia and from New York.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Shuggie Otis,
MC5,
Max Romeo,
Juan Atkins,
Hoover,
The Index,
The Birthday Party,
Swell Maps,
Black Bananas,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Minny Pops,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sarah Menescal,
Cluster,
Sun City Girls,
Procol Harum,
Young Marble Giants,
Trumans Water,
Pere Ubu,
Barbara Tucker,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Alarm Clocks,
Glenn Branca,
The Count Five,
The Toasters,
Gil Scott Heron,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Oblivians,
Organ,
The Velvet Underground,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Arab on Radar,
Monks,
Erasure,
Black Moon,
June Days,
Minutemen,
The Fuzztones,
Rosa Yemen,
Vladislav Delay,
X-Ray Spex,
Oneida,
B.T. Express,
Fluxion,
The Cowsills,
Ituana,
Brick,
a-ha,
The Wake,
Minnie Riperton,
Khruangbin,
Supertramp,
Man Parrish,
Echospace,
Fela Kuti,
Erykah Badu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kenny Larkin,
The Doors,
The Searchers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Roy Ayers,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.