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 Comoros and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 The Litter to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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 Doors,
The Martian,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Metal Thangz,
New York Dolls,
Johnny Osbourne,
KRS-One,
Flipper,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Morten Harket,
Second Layer,
Con Funk Shun,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Residents,
Skarface,
The Trojans,
Intrusion,
Banda Bassotti,
Monolake,
Theoretical Girls,
Dark Day,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Neu!,
Stiv Bators,
The Raincoats,
David McCallum,
Connie Case,
Supertramp,
H. Thieme,
the Fania All-Stars,
Smog,
Derrick May,
Lalann,
Sam Rivers,
Au Pairs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Golliwogs,
Chris & Cosey,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Monks,
Man Parrish,
B.T. Express,
Amazonics,
Aaron Thompson,
Jerry's Kids,
K-Klass,
The Skatalites,
Symarip,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Albert Ayler,
La Düsseldorf,
Scan 7,
Black Flag,
The Mojo Men,
The Monochrome Set,
Sun City Girls,
Groovy Waters,
Massinfluence,
Juan Atkins,
Wolf Eyes,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.