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 Korea North and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin 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 Desert Stars to the jazz 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Ossler,
Zero Boys,
Al Stewart,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Simply Red,
The Names,
Bootsy Collins,
The Neon Judgement,
The Black Dice,
Khruangbin,
Lindisfarne,
Unrelated Segments,
Fugazi,
The Moody Blues,
The Blues Magoos,
Camberwell Now,
Faust,
The Raincoats,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joe Smooth,
Dorothy Ashby,
Oneida,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
David McCallum,
Sällskapet,
The Red Krayola,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eddi Front,
Gregory Isaacs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Howard Jones,
K-Klass,
Marine Girls,
Neu!,
John Coltrane,
Hardrive,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ornette Coleman,
Ponytail,
Robert Hood,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Blossom Toes,
X-102,
Mantronix,
Clear Light,
Black Sheep,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amazonics,
Gong,
Delon & Dalcan,
Anakelly,
Barrington Levy,
The Associates,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joensuu 1685,
Roxette,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.