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 Tunisia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Average White Band to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
Underground Resistance,
World's Most,
The Slits,
Scion,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
La Düsseldorf,
Nick Fraelich,
Mandrill,
The Beau Brummels,
Barry Ungar,
Goldenarms,
Q65,
Magma,
Leonard Cohen,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bauhaus,
Terry Callier,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
June Days,
The Mummies,
Warsaw,
Brick,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Young Rascals,
Bush Tetras,
Malaria!,
The Index,
Los Fastidios,
The Modern Lovers,
Nas,
These Immortal Souls,
Michelle Simonal,
The Birthday Party,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Glenn Branca,
Marcia Griffiths,
Spoonie Gee,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Niagra,
Kerri Chandler,
Neu!,
Vainqueur,
Sonny Sharrock,
Swans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eli Mardock,
Lalann,
Boz Scaggs,
The Happenings,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tom Boy,
The Dead C,
Shoche,
The New Christs,
Cluster,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dual Sessions,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.