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 Mexico and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin 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 Skriet to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gerry Rafferty,
Man Parrish,
Blancmange,
Arthur Verocai,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Electric Prunes,
The Monochrome Set,
Fluxion,
Fad Gadget,
Joensuu 1685,
Bootsy Collins,
Mars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Henry Cow,
the Human League,
K-Klass,
LL Cool J,
Sight & Sound,
Lou Christie,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Minor Threat,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Adolescents,
Eric Dolphy,
Oneida,
Donald Byrd,
The Gun Club,
Neu!,
Sun Ra,
Swans,
The Trojans,
The Red Krayola,
Guru Guru,
Mad Mike,
The Star Department,
Siglo XX,
Amon Düül,
Juan Atkins,
Warren Ellis,
Aloha Tigers,
John Lydon,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Brothers Johnson,
Eli Mardock,
Outsiders,
Hot Snakes,
X-101,
Pulsallama,
The Doors,
Royal Trux,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Peter & Gordon,
Ronnie Foster,
Eden Ahbez,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bob Dylan,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.