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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Accra.
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 güiro 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Eli Mardock,
The Litter,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Modern Lovers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Chris & Cosey,
Bootsy Collins,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Moby Grape,
The Black Dice,
The Walker Brothers,
Ultravox,
Nico,
Depeche Mode,
Lou Christie,
Infiniti,
Janne Schatter,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Boredoms,
Country Teasers,
Second Layer,
Scott Walker,
The Neon Judgement,
Fatback Band,
Hardrive,
Rod Modell,
Howard Jones,
The Gap Band,
Symarip,
Japan,
Guru Guru,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jeff Mills,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Mummies,
Byron Stingily,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Toasters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pylon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Fortunes,
the Germs,
Massinfluence,
Eve St. Jones,
F. McDonald,
Malaria!,
Ash Ra Tempel,
James White and The Blacks,
Roxy Music,
Rekid,
Dead Boys,
The Star Department,
Graham Central Station,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Junior Murvin,
The Beau Brummels,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.