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 Albania and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Cal Tjader to the disco 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Fela Kuti,
Barry Ungar,
The Litter,
Todd Rundgren,
Organ,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Red Krayola,
Black Sheep,
Donald Byrd,
Max Romeo,
Delta 5,
Moss Icon,
E-Dancer,
Sex Pistols,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mr. Review,
Suicide,
Nick Fraelich,
Deadbeat,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tears for Fears,
Wolf Eyes,
John Foxx,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Matthew Bourne,
KRS-One,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
China Crisis,
Bush Tetras,
Skriet,
Con Funk Shun,
Joyce Sims,
Brick,
Moebius,
K-Klass,
The Durutti Column,
Sound Behaviour,
Magma,
Minor Threat,
A Certain Ratio,
Fat Boys,
Skarface,
Derrick May,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
John Holt,
ABBA,
Pantytec,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Robert Wyatt,
Ultravox,
Roy Ayers,
Johnny Clarke,
Public Enemy,
Ludus,
One Last Wish,
Cluster,
Country Teasers,
Iggy Pop,
Girls At Our Best!,
Guru Guru,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.