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 Liberia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Thompson Twins to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Archie Shepp,
Television,
Sex Pistols,
Terry Callier,
Mandrill,
Ronnie Foster,
Ossler,
Unwound,
a-ha,
Soft Machine,
The Five Americans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Reagan Youth,
Neil Young,
Fugazi,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Magazine,
X-102,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Juan Atkins,
Amazonics,
Severed Heads,
Maurizio,
Stetsasonic,
Albert Ayler,
Roy Ayers,
Max Romeo,
The Divine Comedy,
Talk Talk,
Soul Sonic Force,
Darondo,
Jacob Miller,
Johnny Clarke,
Zapp,
Oneida,
D'Angelo,
Fear,
Nas,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Big Daddy Kane,
Patti Smith,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
R.M.O.,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tomorrow,
The Wake,
Jandek,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nirvana,
Scientists,
Subhumans,
Lou Reed,
Slave,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sun City Girls,
T. Rex,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.