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 Chad and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 chamberlin 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 Mars to the grunge 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
La Düsseldorf,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
B.T. Express,
Sandy B,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Foxx,
T.S.O.L.,
The Slackers,
Urselle,
The J.B.'s,
Average White Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Magma,
Simply Red,
Barrington Levy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Knickerbockers,
Bill Near,
KRS-One,
Buzzcocks,
Jeru the Damaja,
K-Klass,
Subhumans,
Agitation Free,
Fugazi,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Man Eating Sloth,
Con Funk Shun,
The Blues Magoos,
The Misunderstood,
Sun Ra,
Angry Samoans,
Das Ding,
E-Dancer,
Absolute Body Control,
Howard Jones,
Toni Rubio,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Adolescents,
8 Eyed Spy,
Quadrant,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Names,
Kaleidoscope,
Porter Ricks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Newcleus,
Cybotron,
Ronan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lungfish,
Animal Collective,
Theoretical Girls,
Gichy Dan,
The Toasters,
The Searchers,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.