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 Korea North and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro 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 Circle Jerks to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Todd Terry,
Barbara Tucker,
Bill Near,
June Days,
Bob Dylan,
The Toasters,
KRS-One,
The Fortunes,
Joe Finger,
Sexual Harrassment,
Alphaville,
Matthew Bourne,
Pylon,
cv313,
Liliput,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Panda Bear,
Crooked Eye,
Section 25,
The Offenders,
Average White Band,
Quando Quango,
Donald Byrd,
China Crisis,
Flamin' Groovies,
Interpol,
John Cale,
Byron Stingily,
The American Breed,
Jacob Miller,
Loose Ends,
Donny Hathaway,
The Zeros,
Ossler,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Steve Hackett,
The Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Eric B and Rakim,
Tropical Tobacco,
Brass Construction,
Lower 48,
Joey Negro,
Andrew Hill,
Sun City Girls,
Boredoms,
Siglo XX,
The Durutti Column,
Aaron Thompson,
Skriet,
Soft Cell,
Brand Nubian,
Maleditus Sound,
David Bowie,
Youth Brigade,
New Age Steppers,
Second Layer,
Max Romeo,
The Birthday Party,
Tears for Fears,
Bang On A Can,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.