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 Maldives and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Robert Wyatt to the techno 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Pere Ubu,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Make Up,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dead Boys,
Absolute Body Control,
The Star Department,
Soft Machine,
Smog,
Boz Scaggs,
Mantronix,
Pantytec,
B.T. Express,
Ossler,
The Cure,
Clear Light,
The Walker Brothers,
Wolf Eyes,
Lou Christie,
Bill Near,
Colin Newman,
This Heat,
The Gladiators,
Leonard Cohen,
The Offenders,
The Move,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Five Americans,
Saccharine Trust,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Malaria!,
David Bowie,
Electric Prunes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Durutti Column,
Brick,
Joyce Sims,
Q65,
Severed Heads,
ABC,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Heaven 17,
The Shadows of Knight,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fortunes,
Zero Boys,
Crooked Eye,
Piero Umiliani,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Section 25,
Nik Kershaw,
Barry Ungar,
Roger Hodgson,
Letta Mbulu,
Index,
cv313,
Oblivians,
Franke,
Livin' Joy,
Sun City Girls,
Fatback Band,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.