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 Tajikistan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 snare 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 Mary Jane Girls to the electroclash 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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Byron Stingily,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
U.S. Maple,
DNA,
Gang Green,
Carl Craig,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Popol Vuh,
Can,
Khruangbin,
The Mojo Men,
The J.B.'s,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lindisfarne,
Rod Modell,
Tres Demented,
John Cale,
Radio Birdman,
Q65,
Young Marble Giants,
The Black Dice,
Todd Terry,
Piero Umiliani,
Alton Ellis,
Fela Kuti,
Crispian St. Peters,
Main Source,
The Velvet Underground,
Harpers Bizarre,
Royal Trux,
The Remains,
Swell Maps,
Q and Not U,
Marvin Gaye,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultravox,
The Mummies,
Boogie Down Productions,
The United States of America,
Inner City,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Index,
The Saints,
Skaos,
Jeru the Damaja,
Loose Ends,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Stockholm Monsters,
8 Eyed Spy,
China Crisis,
Mars,
Funkadelic,
Surgeon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amon Düül II,
Banda Bassotti,
Todd Rundgren,
The Human League,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.