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 Bangladesh and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 New Order to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roxette,
Alton Ellis,
the Sonics,
Ludus,
Chrome,
The Human League,
Tommy Roe,
Isaac Hayes,
Desert Stars,
Anakelly,
Stereo Dub,
Danielle Patucci,
The New Christs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brick,
Rekid,
Aswad,
Bootsy Collins,
Brothers Johnson,
Glenn Branca,
Magma,
Lou Christie,
Trumans Water,
Ponytail,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cluster,
Harmonia,
Wire,
John Holt,
The Motions,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Youth Brigade,
Sonic Youth,
The Mojo Men,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pussy Galore,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Amazonics,
B.T. Express,
Dawn Penn,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Names,
The Gun Club,
Barrington Levy,
Colin Newman,
The Fortunes,
Warren Ellis,
Pharoah Sanders,
Anthony Braxton,
Boz Scaggs,
Los Fastidios,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sarah Menescal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.