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 Ireland and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Captain Beefheart 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 D'Angelo to the techno 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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David McCallum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Procol Harum,
Lyres,
Negative Approach,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Connie Case,
Crooked Eye,
The Toasters,
Robert Görl,
Black Moon,
Subhumans,
Y Pants,
Faraquet,
John Coltrane,
Brothers Johnson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cecil Taylor,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bluetip,
Alton Ellis,
Wally Richardson,
Talk Talk,
the Normal,
Monolake,
U.S. Maple,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Niagra,
Country Joe & The Fish,
China Crisis,
Charles Mingus,
Mission of Burma,
The Human League,
The Velvet Underground,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tommy Roe,
Brass Construction,
Reagan Youth,
The Index,
Blake Baxter,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Aswad,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fad Gadget,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Christie,
Cluster,
Eli Mardock,
The Count Five,
Sixth Finger,
Symarip,
Soul II Soul,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lower 48,
Echospace,
Reuben Wilson,
the Swans,
DJ Sneak,
Zapp,
The Cure,
Make Up,
The Slackers,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.