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 Kiribati and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wolf Eyes to the crunk 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
The Motions,
Man Parrish,
Symarip,
Eurythmics,
Johnny Clarke,
Cheater Slicks,
Yusef Lateef,
Circle Jerks,
Graham Central Station,
Kaleidoscope,
CMW,
Fugazi,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Wake,
Mantronix,
Gregory Isaacs,
Todd Rundgren,
Steve Hackett,
Mr. Review,
The Leaves,
Supertramp,
The Techniques,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
John Holt,
Oneida,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Quadrant,
Terry Callier,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Suicide,
Rufus Thomas,
Drive Like Jehu,
Susan Cadogan,
X-Ray Spex,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Frankie Knuckles,
a-ha,
Unrelated Segments,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Radiohead,
Faust,
The Slits,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Victims,
Harry Pussy,
Drexciya,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joy Division,
Lucky Dragons,
The Tremeloes,
Niagra,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Happenings,
Jeff Lynne,
Albert Ayler,
Danielle Patucci,
Technova,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.