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 Malta and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cosmic Jokers to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
The Remains,
the Bar-Kays,
Ten City,
Todd Terry,
Tim Buckley,
H. Thieme,
Ronan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lindisfarne,
Cheater Slicks,
David Bowie,
Half Japanese,
Drexciya,
Johnny Clarke,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dark Day,
Tomorrow,
Robert Hood,
Smog,
The Buckinghams,
June Days,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Das Ding,
Nick Fraelich,
Parry Music,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Last Poets,
Subhumans,
Dead Boys,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crash Course in Science,
Lalann,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Moody Blues,
OOIOO,
The Searchers,
Brand Nubian,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Barry Ungar,
Japan,
Ultravox,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rufus Thomas,
Au Pairs,
Procol Harum,
Lungfish,
Janne Schatter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fall,
Slave,
The Smoke,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wire,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sarah Menescal,
Slick Rick,
The Five Americans,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.