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 Grenada and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the crunk 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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
The Buckinghams,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Fugs,
Marshall Jefferson,
China Crisis,
The Tremeloes,
Gang of Four,
Bronski Beat,
Sight & Sound,
Glambeats Corp.,
Newcleus,
Angry Samoans,
Gerry Rafferty,
Al Stewart,
The Evens,
Tim Buckley,
Maurizio,
Nik Kershaw,
Arcadia,
Marc Almond,
The Walker Brothers,
Patti Smith,
Niagra,
Moss Icon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Associates,
Pylon,
Sixth Finger,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dark Day,
Scan 7,
The Shadows of Knight,
Loose Ends,
K-Klass,
Aaron Thompson,
June of 44,
Minnie Riperton,
Jerry's Kids,
Derrick Morgan,
The Durutti Column,
Sam Rivers,
The Blues Magoos,
Buzzcocks,
DNA,
Panda Bear,
Erasure,
Marmalade,
Fluxion,
Rosa Yemen,
Black Pus,
Lindisfarne,
Donny Hathaway,
Amazonics,
Animal Collective,
Wally Richardson,
Visage,
Moebius,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.