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 Afghanistan and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba 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 Lightning Bolt to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
The Standells,
Saccharine Trust,
Derrick Morgan,
48th St. Collective,
Blossom Toes,
Neu!,
Sonic Youth,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Swans,
Ten City,
R.M.O.,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cybotron,
Throbbing Gristle,
Japan,
Theoretical Girls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Flesh Eaters,
Arcadia,
Kayak,
Man Parrish,
Ronan,
Rakim,
Sugar Minott,
Blake Baxter,
Magazine,
Kurtis Blow,
Pole,
The Birthday Party,
The Fuzztones,
Malaria!,
Minny Pops,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Brick,
Goldenarms,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scott Walker,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Victims,
The Sound,
Swell Maps,
the Human League,
The Music Machine,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Five Americans,
Sister Nancy,
Amazonics,
A Certain Ratio,
Nils Olav,
The Happenings,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Minutemen,
the Soft Cell,
The Cure,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Gap Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Zero Boys,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.