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 Moldova and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Paris.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Moebius to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
L. Decosne,
Groovy Waters,
Wally Richardson,
Hardrive,
Index,
Bush Tetras,
the Germs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Excepter,
Von Mondo,
John Cale,
Moebius,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Spoonie Gee,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Quantec,
Bill Near,
The Moody Blues,
Chris Corsano,
Eli Mardock,
The Raincoats,
Alton Ellis,
Unrelated Segments,
Quando Quango,
June of 44,
Mandrill,
Little Man,
New York Dolls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Lydon,
The Mummies,
Roger Hodgson,
Con Funk Shun,
Nas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Make Up,
Freddie Wadling,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Buzzcocks,
Eric Copeland,
OOIOO,
Los Fastidios,
Crispy Ambulance,
Duran Duran,
Frankie Knuckles,
UT,
Gabor Szabo,
Gang of Four,
Dennis Brown,
CMW,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Soft Cell,
Black Sheep,
Reagan Youth,
Young Marble Giants,
Ronnie Foster,
Pussy Galore,
Darondo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.