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 Mozambique and from Mexico City.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 The Dead C to the electroclash 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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Howard Jones,
David McCallum,
The Skatalites,
Ten City,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ornette Coleman,
The Pop Group,
the Fania All-Stars,
JFA,
Cybotron,
Accadde A,
This Heat,
The American Breed,
Rakim,
Lou Reed,
Rites of Spring,
The Blackbyrds,
the Sonics,
Can,
Scratch Acid,
Chrome,
Stetsasonic,
Patti Smith,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tom Boy,
Hasil Adkins,
Bill Wells,
The Mummies,
New Age Steppers,
L. Decosne,
The Smoke,
Lakeside,
Adolescents,
The Durutti Column,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Donny Hathaway,
Lindisfarne,
Davy DMX,
Ultravox,
Kerri Chandler,
The Detroit Cobras,
Yusef Lateef,
Joy Division,
Fluxion,
Derrick Morgan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Roxy Music,
Todd Rundgren,
the Bar-Kays,
Brass Construction,
Newcleus,
Pierre Henry,
Dawn Penn,
The Divine Comedy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sonic Youth,
Agent Orange,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Charles Mingus,
Shuggie Otis,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.