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 Iraq and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Robert Palmer 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 Blancmange to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Harmonia,
Deadbeat,
Tomorrow,
Sister Nancy,
Y Pants,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Oblivians,
Crooked Eye,
Ituana,
The Count Five,
Depeche Mode,
Bad Manners,
The Moleskins,
Stockholm Monsters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ken Boothe,
The Blackbyrds,
Ice-T,
Bush Tetras,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nico,
Black Flag,
B.T. Express,
Trumans Water,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Glenn Branca,
Gichy Dan,
the Swans,
Blossom Toes,
Godley & Creme,
Duran Duran,
Pantaleimon,
Quadrant,
Joensuu 1685,
Juan Atkins,
Byron Stingily,
New Age Steppers,
Angry Samoans,
Pagans,
David McCallum,
Gang of Four,
Sällskapet,
Masters at Work,
Iggy Pop,
CMW,
DJ Style,
Alice Coltrane,
The Stooges,
Rekid,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Gories,
Harry Pussy,
Kaleidoscope,
Soul Sonic Force,
Warsaw,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.