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 Chad and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sam Rivers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Warren Ellis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Con Funk Shun,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
B.T. Express,
Dark Day,
The Offenders,
Rekid,
Gang Starr,
Masters at Work,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sixth Finger,
Matthew Halsall,
The Martian,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Throbbing Gristle,
Howard Jones,
The Zeros,
Tears for Fears,
The Index,
Bobby Byrd,
Traffic Nightmare,
Trumans Water,
The Stooges,
T.S.O.L.,
John Foxx,
The Star Department,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minnie Riperton,
Monolake,
Eric Copeland,
Q and Not U,
Donald Byrd,
the Swans,
Henry Cow,
The American Breed,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Mojo Men,
Rod Modell,
The Barracudas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Trojans,
The J.B.'s,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Monks,
Laurel Aitken,
Whodini,
Roxy Music,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Icehouse,
Vladislav Delay,
Oneida,
Stockholm Monsters,
Toni Rubio,
Section 25,
The Seeds,
Juan Atkins,
The Velvet Underground,
Livin' Joy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Alison Limerick,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.