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 Kiribati and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Flesh Eaters to the grime 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Procol Harum,
F. McDonald,
Reuben Wilson,
Archie Shepp,
Dawn Penn,
Anthony Braxton,
Michelle Simonal,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Little Man,
Nik Kershaw,
David McCallum,
Q and Not U,
Visage,
Interpol,
The Beau Brummels,
Mo-Dettes,
Brand Nubian,
Bush Tetras,
The Dirtbombs,
Rapeman,
Sonic Youth,
Marine Girls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Mummies,
Urselle,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pet Shop Boys,
John Holt,
Jerry Gold Smith,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Happenings,
Eli Mardock,
Terrestrial Tones,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scan 7,
D'Angelo,
The Dead C,
Faraquet,
Silicon Teens,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Chrome,
Ponytail,
The Misunderstood,
Easy Going,
Marvin Gaye,
Rufus Thomas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Blossom Toes,
OOIOO,
Aaron Thompson,
Can,
Bob Dylan,
Drexciya,
Franke,
The Index,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
kango's stein massive,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Cramps,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Newcleus,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.