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 Monaco and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb 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 Basic Channel 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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?
The Searchers,
Cal Tjader,
Yellowson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Trojans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gang Gang Dance,
Visage,
Nirvana,
Nico,
Severed Heads,
Jeff Lynne,
Malaria!,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Vogues,
Shuggie Otis,
Avey Tare,
Mark Hollis,
Joey Negro,
Wolf Eyes,
John Cale,
Steve Hackett,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Don Cherry,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dennis Brown,
Mars,
Scratch Acid,
Dawn Penn,
Idris Muhammad,
Harmonia,
Jeru the Damaja,
Interpol,
Stiv Bators,
Ponytail,
Marvin Gaye,
Amazonics,
Groovy Waters,
Sällskapet,
Spandau Ballet,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Roy Ayers,
Kerri Chandler,
The Divine Comedy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ohio Players,
Lower 48,
Franke,
The Skatalites,
The Monks,
Quadrant,
Subhumans,
Ossler,
Quantec,
Crispy Ambulance,
Grey Daturas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.