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 Solomon Islands and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 guitar 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 Tim Buckley to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Desert Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Boredoms,
Monks,
Donny Hathaway,
Severed Heads,
The Pop Group,
Sparks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Black Moon,
Joe Smooth,
Talk Talk,
Groovy Waters,
China Crisis,
These Immortal Souls,
Parry Music,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Black Bananas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Neil Young,
Joensuu 1685,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eli Mardock,
Junior Murvin,
Gabor Szabo,
Lakeside,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tomorrow,
Flipper,
Radiohead,
Blossom Toes,
Flash Fearless,
Nick Fraelich,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Don Cherry,
Crime,
Fad Gadget,
Letta Mbulu,
Half Japanese,
The Fall,
Lower 48,
Bobby Byrd,
The Durutti Column,
Radio Birdman,
Gang of Four,
Reagan Youth,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The American Breed,
Moby Grape,
Pierre Henry,
Avey Tare,
The Mummies,
Qualms,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.