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 Guatemala and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Philadelphia.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 B.T. Express to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fatback Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Icehouse,
The Selecter,
Skaos,
John Cale,
Tommy Roe,
June Days,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ken Boothe,
The Smiths,
Brothers Johnson,
Swans,
Jacob Miller,
Darondo,
Absolute Body Control,
Main Source,
Motorama,
The Victims,
Cecil Taylor,
Moebius,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Toasters,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Country Teasers,
Negative Approach,
Duran Duran,
Gang Gang Dance,
Franke,
Camberwell Now,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Iggy Pop,
Howard Jones,
Flamin' Groovies,
Metal Thangz,
Fad Gadget,
Rotary Connection,
Urselle,
Deakin,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Suburban Knight,
B.T. Express,
Radiohead,
Q and Not U,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lungfish,
Minnie Riperton,
Juan Atkins,
Joensuu 1685,
Robert Görl,
Barry Ungar,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Trumans Water,
Sandy B,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Charles Mingus,
The Move,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.