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 Cyprus and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the grime 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Bill Wells,
Von Mondo,
Supertramp,
Ash Ra Tempel,
New Age Steppers,
The Buckinghams,
The Walker Brothers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barbara Tucker,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bush Tetras,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Arcadia,
The Busters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
World's Most,
Aural Exciters,
R.M.O.,
LL Cool J,
Freddie Wadling,
Tubeway Army,
Quadrant,
Bill Near,
Eric B and Rakim,
Essential Logic,
Babytalk,
10cc,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wally Richardson,
Reuben Wilson,
Whodini,
Panda Bear,
Deepchord,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fall,
The Detroit Cobras,
Zapp,
Magma,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ponytail,
The Durutti Column,
Deadbeat,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Grass Roots,
Moby Grape,
Khruangbin,
Pantytec,
Agent Orange,
The Doors,
Los Fastidios,
June of 44,
Fad Gadget,
Liliput,
Gong,
The Gun Club,
Drive Like Jehu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Patti Smith,
AZ,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.