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 Jordan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Mexico City and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 spring reverb 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 Severed Heads 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies 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?
Andrew Hill,
Oneida,
Minutemen,
The Zeros,
Silicon Teens,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eddi Front,
The Walker Brothers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scratch Acid,
D'Angelo,
Thompson Twins,
Swell Maps,
Michelle Simonal,
Bang On A Can,
Wasted Youth,
Spandau Ballet,
Johnny Clarke,
Iggy Pop,
Minor Threat,
Scrapy,
Terry Callier,
Ohio Players,
Negative Approach,
Bobby Womack,
Toni Rubio,
Sun Ra,
The Pretty Things,
the Swans,
Sex Pistols,
Throbbing Gristle,
KRS-One,
Pylon,
Patti Smith,
The Durutti Column,
Fugazi,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Neil Young,
Tubeway Army,
Nils Olav,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Offenders,
Steve Hackett,
The Monks,
Derrick Morgan,
Cybotron,
Frankie Knuckles,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Skarface,
Magazine,
Hashim,
John Coltrane,
The Names,
Pierre Henry,
the Normal,
Chrome,
The Moody Blues,
Barry Ungar,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.