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 Pakistan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Tom Verlaine 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 The Modern Lovers to the rap 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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
H. Thieme,
Black Bananas,
Mission of Burma,
Surgeon,
Harry Pussy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Smog,
Average White Band,
Gong,
Bluetip,
The Real Kids,
Black Pus,
Lakeside,
Funkadelic,
Derrick Morgan,
Jacob Miller,
The Grass Roots,
Scratch Acid,
Alison Limerick,
Vladislav Delay,
Eli Mardock,
Make Up,
Don Cherry,
Duran Duran,
Chris Corsano,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Erykah Badu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Slick Rick,
Henry Cow,
Gregory Isaacs,
June of 44,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sun Ra,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brand Nubian,
Colin Newman,
Sam Rivers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sight & Sound,
Cymande,
Soft Machine,
John Holt,
Rekid,
Pole,
Arcadia,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nik Kershaw,
The Sonics,
Brothers Johnson,
Suburban Knight,
Mars,
Ludus,
Harmonia,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
June Days,
MC5,
the Human League,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.