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 Korea South and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Accra.
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 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 Icehouse to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
The Standells,
Minutemen,
The Slits,
cv313,
Khruangbin,
Prince Buster,
Connie Case,
B.T. Express,
The Searchers,
Altered Images,
The American Breed,
Colin Newman,
Todd Rundgren,
Los Fastidios,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Unrelated Segments,
OOIOO,
Iggy Pop,
Television Personalities,
Aswad,
Joey Negro,
Charles Mingus,
Stereo Dub,
The Busters,
Severed Heads,
Eric Copeland,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Slits,
Ronan,
Man Parrish,
Silicon Teens,
Idris Muhammad,
the Swans,
The Gories,
Joy Division,
The Smiths,
Stiv Bators,
Swell Maps,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Fugs,
Jawbox,
The Sonics,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Average White Band,
Fluxion,
The Evens,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Zeros,
Tim Buckley,
Carl Craig,
Schoolly D,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Alison Limerick,
The Saints,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Neon Judgement,
Brand Nubian,
The Birthday Party,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fortunes,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.