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 Bhutan and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rakim to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Red Krayola,
Smog,
The Neon Judgement,
Mark Hollis,
John Coltrane,
Excepter,
Easy Going,
La Düsseldorf,
Main Source,
New Age Steppers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tubeway Army,
The Knickerbockers,
The American Breed,
Man Parrish,
MC5,
Fear,
Zero Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rapeman,
The Fugs,
Monolake,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crime,
Minny Pops,
UT,
Fad Gadget,
Faust,
Scion,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gichy Dan,
Stetsasonic,
Tears for Fears,
Suburban Knight,
Crispy Ambulance,
Masters at Work,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ohio Players,
Leonard Cohen,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gil Scott Heron,
Matthew Halsall,
Scratch Acid,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bauhaus,
the Slits,
ABBA,
David Axelrod,
Fluxion,
Terry Callier,
The Birthday Party,
F. McDonald,
Gang of Four,
Bill Near,
Altered Images,
The Residents,
Audionom,
Minor Threat,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
ABC,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.