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 Portugal and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Misunderstood to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Tres Demented,
The Martian,
Jeru the Damaja,
D'Angelo,
Soft Machine,
Eve St. Jones,
Mad Mike,
Hasil Adkins,
48th St. Collective,
Outsiders,
a-ha,
Quando Quango,
Drive Like Jehu,
Youth Brigade,
Minutemen,
Sun City Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jimmy McGriff,
Derrick Morgan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kerri Chandler,
Skarface,
Morten Harket,
The Tremeloes,
The Durutti Column,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sun Ra,
the Bar-Kays,
Eddi Front,
Technova,
Glambeats Corp.,
These Immortal Souls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
David McCallum,
Lungfish,
Eli Mardock,
Maurizio,
Mary Jane Girls,
Khruangbin,
The Buckinghams,
Delta 5,
Bad Manners,
Swans,
Rites of Spring,
Lucky Dragons,
Gregory Isaacs,
T. Rex,
Crooked Eye,
Nas,
Scrapy,
B.T. Express,
Grauzone,
the Swans,
ABC,
Arcadia,
Icehouse,
Anakelly,
Minnie Riperton,
Ornette Coleman,
Scientists,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.