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 Uruguay and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Barclay James Harvest to the punk 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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
The Black Dice,
Altered Images,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Camberwell Now,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wolf Eyes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ponytail,
Roger Hodgson,
Tim Buckley,
Freddie Wadling,
Iggy Pop,
Chrome,
Public Enemy,
Rosa Yemen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cheater Slicks,
10cc,
Charles Mingus,
a-ha,
Chris Corsano,
The Invisible,
The Real Kids,
The Evens,
Dave Gahan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Don Cherry,
Juan Atkins,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fluxion,
Junior Murvin,
X-Ray Spex,
Al Stewart,
The American Breed,
Fugazi,
Patti Smith,
Brass Construction,
Joe Finger,
Steve Hackett,
Neu!,
Metal Thangz,
Barry Ungar,
Warsaw,
Throbbing Gristle,
Can,
The Zeros,
Thee Headcoats,
Motorama,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Moleskins,
Sixth Finger,
The Move,
Quantec,
Mars,
Pole,
Make Up,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.