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 United Kingdom and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe 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 T.S.O.L. to the funk 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 The Fall. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Los Fastidios,
L. Decosne,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fatback Band,
Black Pus,
Ossler,
OOIOO,
The Seeds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Agent Orange,
Spoonie Gee,
Babytalk,
Television,
The Happenings,
Anthony Braxton,
Spandau Ballet,
T.S.O.L.,
Bronski Beat,
Jacques Brel,
Minor Threat,
The Barracudas,
Neu!,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Livin' Joy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Von Mondo,
Don Cherry,
Charles Mingus,
Qualms,
The Walker Brothers,
the Soft Cell,
The Toasters,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Leonard Cohen,
The Grass Roots,
Johnny Clarke,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Carl Craig,
The Busters,
Circle Jerks,
Neil Young,
Isaac Hayes,
Piero Umiliani,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Boz Scaggs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Supertramp,
Quantec,
John Foxx,
The Music Machine,
Pussy Galore,
Camouflage,
Alison Limerick,
The Trojans,
The New Christs,
Crooked Eye,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Johnny Osbourne,
U.S. Maple,
Drive Like Jehu,
Nirvana,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.