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 Angola and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
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 mellotron 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 The Durutti Column to the funk 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
June Days,
Tom Boy,
Patti Smith,
the Bar-Kays,
AZ,
The Angels of Light,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ornette Coleman,
DJ Style,
Franke,
Rotary Connection,
Delta 5,
The Modern Lovers,
Niagra,
Agitation Free,
Byron Stingily,
The Last Poets,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sun City Girls,
Gichy Dan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tres Demented,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sixth Finger,
Donald Byrd,
Throbbing Gristle,
Electric Prunes,
Skaos,
Joey Negro,
Grey Daturas,
Television,
Talk Talk,
Pussy Galore,
Underground Resistance,
Rites of Spring,
Organ,
Simply Red,
The Monochrome Set,
Sarah Menescal,
Juan Atkins,
Spandau Ballet,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Todd Terry,
Mo-Dettes,
Aaron Thompson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Aswad,
Letta Mbulu,
Pantytec,
Silicon Teens,
the Soft Cell,
Procol Harum,
Desert Stars,
Amon Düül II,
Radiopuhelimet,
Robert Görl,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.