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 Senegal and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Glenn Branca to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Bluetip,
The Leaves,
Liliput,
New York Dolls,
Arthur Verocai,
Henry Cow,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wings,
Grey Daturas,
the Association,
Joensuu 1685,
Hashim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Radiopuhelimet,
Severed Heads,
Shuggie Otis,
Don Cherry,
Can,
Harry Pussy,
Oneida,
Clear Light,
Das Ding,
Lalann,
The Fall,
Infiniti,
Chris Corsano,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Al Stewart,
B.T. Express,
Depeche Mode,
Ralphi Rosario,
Hasil Adkins,
Pagans,
Sight & Sound,
Nico,
Morten Harket,
Electric Prunes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Arcadia,
James White and The Blacks,
Kevin Saunderson,
KRS-One,
The Monks,
Bang On A Can,
The Tremeloes,
Black Pus,
Tubeway Army,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Michelle Simonal,
Fluxion,
Zero Boys,
Graham Central Station,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Hot Snakes,
Sex Pistols,
Jesper Dahlback,
Reuben Wilson,
Kerri Chandler,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.