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 Kosovo and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Dave Gahan 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
MDC,
The Zeros,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Can,
The Sonics,
Moebius,
Big Daddy Kane,
Faraquet,
Crash Course in Science,
DJ Style,
Throbbing Gristle,
X-Ray Spex,
Q65,
Little Man,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Mojo Men,
Slick Rick,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sarah Menescal,
Clear Light,
Spoonie Gee,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Slits,
Jesper Dahlback,
Oblivians,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Pop Group,
Lungfish,
Alice Coltrane,
Lightning Bolt,
Slave,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Christie,
Camouflage,
Skaos,
Dennis Brown,
Man Eating Sloth,
CMW,
Quadrant,
Piero Umiliani,
Graham Central Station,
Bootsy Collins,
The Angels of Light,
Bush Tetras,
The Gories,
Intrusion,
Masters at Work,
The Stooges,
Soul II Soul,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Delta 5,
Warsaw,
The Tremeloes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
F. McDonald,
Gabor Szabo,
H. Thieme,
Con Funk Shun,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.