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 Nicaragua and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Bologna and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Toasters to the rock 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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Al Stewart,
Joensuu 1685,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Audionom,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marvin Gaye,
The Five Americans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The American Breed,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
FM Einheit,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Moby Grape,
Zero Boys,
The Standells,
MDC,
Angry Samoans,
Pylon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Grauzone,
Talk Talk,
Terry Callier,
Niagra,
The Durutti Column,
Black Moon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crispian St. Peters,
Warsaw,
Wire,
Roy Ayers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Faraquet,
The Misunderstood,
Public Enemy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DJ Sneak,
Symarip,
Bush Tetras,
Soft Cell,
Alice Coltrane,
The Cure,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Josef K,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Popol Vuh,
E-Dancer,
the Sonics,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ornette Coleman,
Nils Olav,
Colin Newman,
Prince Buster,
Second Layer,
Urselle,
Freddie Wadling,
Khruangbin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.