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 Brunei and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manila.
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 Tom Verlaine 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 Selecter to the disco 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Cheater Slicks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Masters at Work,
Nick Fraelich,
The Barracudas,
Alison Limerick,
Unwound,
Ultra Naté,
Scratch Acid,
Alphaville,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thee Headcoats,
Oneida,
K-Klass,
Albert Ayler,
Clear Light,
Robert Hood,
The Standells,
The Red Krayola,
Mission of Burma,
Donny Hathaway,
Arab on Radar,
Q and Not U,
Desert Stars,
Funkadelic,
Echospace,
Black Pus,
Smog,
Sound Behaviour,
Massinfluence,
Ituana,
Goldenarms,
Vainqueur,
the Swans,
Fugazi,
The Remains,
Tim Buckley,
David Axelrod,
The Motions,
Ten City,
Boz Scaggs,
Subhumans,
48th St. Collective,
kango's stein massive,
Harry Pussy,
Youth Brigade,
The Vogues,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joe Smooth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Idris Muhammad,
The Slits,
Brand Nubian,
The Grass Roots,
The Stooges,
Archie Shepp,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sex Pistols,
Quantec,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Maleditus Sound,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.