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 Colombia and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Aaron Thompson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sight & Sound,
Byron Stingily,
ABBA,
F. McDonald,
Slick Rick,
Crime,
Sam Rivers,
Kerri Chandler,
CMW,
The United States of America,
Accadde A,
Cheater Slicks,
The Wake,
The Buckinghams,
Aloha Tigers,
B.T. Express,
Wally Richardson,
Nils Olav,
Stiv Bators,
In Retrospect,
The J.B.'s,
Andrew Hill,
Eric Copeland,
Angry Samoans,
Lightning Bolt,
Tears for Fears,
Panda Bear,
The Seeds,
Susan Cadogan,
The Real Kids,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
T.S.O.L.,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gang of Four,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oblivians,
Procol Harum,
Camberwell Now,
Niagra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Flipper,
Prince Buster,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Slits,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cymande,
Pole,
Leonard Cohen,
Livin' Joy,
Reuben Wilson,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Black Dice,
Sound Behaviour,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Gap Band,
Scientists,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.