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 Afghanistan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Tommy Roe to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Negative Approach,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Average White Band,
The Young Rascals,
Steve Hackett,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lower 48,
June of 44,
This Heat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Depeche Mode,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Normal,
Quantec,
Second Layer,
Mr. Review,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
John Foxx,
Qualms,
Buzzcocks,
Can,
the Fania All-Stars,
Malaria!,
Roger Hodgson,
Sällskapet,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Names,
Joey Negro,
Magazine,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Colin Newman,
Harry Pussy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rufus Thomas,
Dennis Brown,
Joe Finger,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Toni Rubio,
Donny Hathaway,
The Index,
the Bar-Kays,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hoover,
R.M.O.,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Matthew Halsall,
Monolake,
Thee Headcoats,
Mark Hollis,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Vogues,
Brothers Johnson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Technova,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Holt,
Echospace,
The Searchers,
Jacques Brel,
the Soft Cell,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.