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 Estonia and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rites of Spring to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Skaos,
Agent Orange,
Lucky Dragons,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Beau Brummels,
Dennis Brown,
U.S. Maple,
James White and The Blacks,
Skriet,
the Association,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Babytalk,
The Misunderstood,
In Retrospect,
Black Bananas,
Desert Stars,
Soft Machine,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Joey Negro,
R.M.O.,
Boogie Down Productions,
Joe Smooth,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eric Copeland,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tomorrow,
Don Cherry,
Kurtis Blow,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Make Up,
Bobby Womack,
Suburban Knight,
Mr. Review,
Sixth Finger,
Tim Buckley,
Brothers Johnson,
The Victims,
Dave Gahan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wire,
Gil Scott Heron,
Infiniti,
cv313,
Quadrant,
Animal Collective,
Buzzcocks,
The Remains,
Wolf Eyes,
Fear,
Fluxion,
DNA,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sun City Girls,
Zero Boys,
Oneida,
Echospace,
Terry Callier,
The Sonics,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.