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 San Marino and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Jakarta.
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 marimba 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 Rites of Spring to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Skriet,
Wire,
Eric Copeland,
Avey Tare,
Sister Nancy,
Flash Fearless,
Nik Kershaw,
Swans,
Soft Machine,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Byron Stingily,
Sällskapet,
Pantytec,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bizarre Inc.,
Brick,
KRS-One,
The Flesh Eaters,
Icehouse,
Lee Hazlewood,
8 Eyed Spy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Man Parrish,
The Pretty Things,
Livin' Joy,
Anakelly,
Crooked Eye,
Organ,
The Gap Band,
The Litter,
Unrelated Segments,
Gang Green,
U.S. Maple,
Sun City Girls,
Wolf Eyes,
Japan,
Yellowson,
Black Sheep,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Aaron Thompson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Junior Murvin,
ABC,
Reagan Youth,
Barbara Tucker,
Crash Course in Science,
David Axelrod,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Fortunes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joyce Sims,
Bobby Byrd,
Clear Light,
Colin Newman,
R.M.O.,
The Dead C,
Matthew Bourne,
Electric Prunes,
Faust,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.