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 Saudi Arabia and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 World's Most to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 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 Move,
H. Thieme,
Qualms,
The Black Dice,
Con Funk Shun,
KRS-One,
Arcadia,
Max Romeo,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultimate Spinach,
T.S.O.L.,
Television,
Mr. Review,
Unwound,
Danielle Patucci,
Ten City,
Black Pus,
Nick Fraelich,
The Slits,
The United States of America,
Negative Approach,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Peter and Kerry,
Public Image Ltd.,
David McCallum,
The Fortunes,
Heaven 17,
Sonny Sharrock,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Minnie Riperton,
Silicon Teens,
Terrestrial Tones,
Newcleus,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eric B and Rakim,
Procol Harum,
Intrusion,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wolf Eyes,
Ludus,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Maleditus Sound,
Parry Music,
PIL,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Residents,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Toni Rubio,
kango's stein massive,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wings,
The Mummies,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bill Wells,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nirvana,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Fuzztones,
Interpol,
The Divine Comedy,
Pet Shop Boys,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.