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 Argentina and from Madrid.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Jeff Lynne to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Make Up,
Peter and Kerry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fat Boys,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rotary Connection,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Electric Prunes,
Con Funk Shun,
Pulsallama,
Excepter,
The Kinks,
Black Moon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cymande,
Animal Collective,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Fania All-Stars,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bobby Womack,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kurtis Blow,
Severed Heads,
Banda Bassotti,
The Dead C,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Easy Going,
Joe Smooth,
Chris & Cosey,
Eddi Front,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Normal,
Supertramp,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Loose Ends,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sam Rivers,
World's Most,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
OOIOO,
Joensuu 1685,
The Happenings,
Arab on Radar,
Newcleus,
Franke,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Anthony Braxton,
Terry Callier,
Erykah Badu,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Black Pus,
Joy Division,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cowsills,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.