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 Estonia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Y Pants to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eve St. Jones,
Jerry's Kids,
Joensuu 1685,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sugar Minott,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fluxion,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rapeman,
Sister Nancy,
Malaria!,
Porter Ricks,
Guru Guru,
Bang On A Can,
Aswad,
Zero Boys,
The Evens,
Derrick May,
Rod Modell,
Hot Snakes,
Bob Dylan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Alice Coltrane,
Vladislav Delay,
Funky Four + One,
Qualms,
Q65,
Spoonie Gee,
Josef K,
Heaven 17,
The Tremeloes,
Ornette Coleman,
Blake Baxter,
Morten Harket,
Arthur Verocai,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
This Heat,
Iggy Pop,
The Gladiators,
Technova,
Bobby Womack,
The Index,
Piero Umiliani,
Khruangbin,
X-102,
Anthony Braxton,
Nick Fraelich,
Panda Bear,
Sparks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Easy Going,
Prince Buster,
Fat Boys,
The Standells,
Monks,
Boz Scaggs,
Isaac Hayes,
Tears for Fears,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.