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 St Lucia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 güiro 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 Gabor Szabo to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Seeds. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Jawbox,
Sällskapet,
the Fania All-Stars,
AZ,
The Motions,
Kerri Chandler,
The Mummies,
Rosa Yemen,
Sixth Finger,
Nas,
The Monks,
Ultra Naté,
Wings,
Gang of Four,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fela Kuti,
Chris & Cosey,
Sandy B,
The Cowsills,
The Slits,
Rites of Spring,
Q and Not U,
Section 25,
Smog,
The Real Kids,
Shoche,
The Vogues,
Eric B and Rakim,
The J.B.'s,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rekid,
Sexual Harrassment,
Junior Murvin,
Drive Like Jehu,
U.S. Maple,
John Foxx,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Andrew Hill,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Black Dice,
Average White Band,
the Sonics,
Q65,
The Mojo Men,
The Cramps,
The Gories,
Main Source,
Juan Atkins,
John Coltrane,
Susan Cadogan,
Das Ding,
Clear Light,
Jacques Brel,
The Buckinghams,
Hasil Adkins,
Television,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Golliwogs,
Yazoo,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.