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 Kosovo and from Salvador.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the electroclash 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oblivians record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Normal,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Moleskins,
Cameo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Interpol,
The Sonics,
Erykah Badu,
The Skatalites,
Rod Modell,
The Zeros,
the Soft Cell,
The Slackers,
Soft Cell,
The Velvet Underground,
Audionom,
Hardrive,
Babytalk,
Tomorrow,
Bush Tetras,
John Coltrane,
Reagan Youth,
Faraquet,
Thompson Twins,
Neil Young,
the Fania All-Stars,
cv313,
World's Most,
Q and Not U,
DJ Sneak,
Carl Craig,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lindisfarne,
Eddi Front,
Minnie Riperton,
Ohio Players,
Jacob Miller,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Public Enemy,
The Beau Brummels,
Drive Like Jehu,
Nirvana,
Livin' Joy,
ABBA,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Human League,
Juan Atkins,
Oblivians,
Fad Gadget,
The Red Krayola,
the Swans,
Bad Manners,
Graham Central Station,
Pylon,
Groovy Waters,
Franke,
Ornette Coleman,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.