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 New Zealand and from Columbus.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the grime 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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
The Invisible,
Tommy Roe,
Interpol,
The Offenders,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Kinks,
Lightning Bolt,
Todd Rundgren,
Mark Hollis,
Gang Green,
Connie Case,
The Last Poets,
John Foxx,
Excepter,
China Crisis,
The Neon Judgement,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Juan Atkins,
Kerri Chandler,
Andrew Hill,
Funkadelic,
Marvin Gaye,
Kayak,
Wings,
The Doors,
Ohio Players,
Nick Fraelich,
Sarah Menescal,
Television,
The Fortunes,
Jerry's Kids,
Second Layer,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eli Mardock,
Joe Finger,
The Victims,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Wake,
A Certain Ratio,
Sonny Sharrock,
Donald Byrd,
Popol Vuh,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lalo Schifrin,
Con Funk Shun,
Yazoo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Derrick May,
Jawbox,
New Order,
Amon Düül,
Jacques Brel,
Nas,
Soul Sonic Force,
Freddie Wadling,
Stiv Bators,
Goldenarms,
Albert Ayler,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dawn Penn,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.