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 Solomon Islands and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin 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 Nico to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Sex Pistols,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Josef K,
Tubeway Army,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mary Jane Girls,
Goldenarms,
Lightning Bolt,
Sister Nancy,
The Litter,
Animal Collective,
Fear,
Oneida,
Toni Rubio,
The Shadows of Knight,
Moby Grape,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Yellowson,
Susan Cadogan,
Mad Mike,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Modern Lovers,
Brothers Johnson,
Jandek,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
June of 44,
Flash Fearless,
LL Cool J,
Joe Smooth,
The Martian,
Chris Corsano,
Quando Quango,
Qualms,
Rapeman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Robert Görl,
MC5,
ABBA,
OOIOO,
Hot Snakes,
The Cramps,
Crooked Eye,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Johnny Clarke,
Banda Bassotti,
The Gladiators,
Zero Boys,
Eli Mardock,
The Smoke,
The Mummies,
Motorama,
Circle Jerks,
Warren Ellis,
Cheater Slicks,
Parry Music,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bobby Byrd,
Barbara Tucker,
Dead Boys,
The Sonics,
Lou Reed,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.