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 Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Stiv Bators to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
The Techniques,
Hashim,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Chris & Cosey,
The Buckinghams,
Sandy B,
Excepter,
Sun City Girls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mission of Burma,
Newcleus,
Wasted Youth,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rakim,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Offenders,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kevin Saunderson,
Interpol,
The Vogues,
U.S. Maple,
Flamin' Groovies,
Radio Birdman,
Make Up,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Altered Images,
Boredoms,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
DNA,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Stooges,
Amon Düül,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Agent Orange,
the Bar-Kays,
Al Stewart,
In Retrospect,
Faust,
L. Decosne,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
cv313,
Dark Day,
Traffic Nightmare,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Black Pus,
Rotary Connection,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cameo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sister Nancy,
Ronnie Foster,
Quando Quango,
Iggy Pop,
Brick,
Little Man,
Colin Newman,
H. Thieme,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Tremeloes,
June of 44,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.