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 Papua New Guinea and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Judy Mowatt to the dance 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pet Shop Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Holt,
Nico,
Accadde A,
Underground Resistance,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cecil Taylor,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rotary Connection,
Nick Fraelich,
Slick Rick,
The Dirtbombs,
Fluxion,
T. Rex,
Y Pants,
Steve Hackett,
Charles Mingus,
Desert Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Todd Rundgren,
The Angels of Light,
The Evens,
The Searchers,
This Heat,
Subhumans,
The Durutti Column,
Goldenarms,
Wings,
Laurel Aitken,
New Order,
The Pretty Things,
Darondo,
The Red Krayola,
Pussy Galore,
The Blues Magoos,
The Young Rascals,
CMW,
The Star Department,
Bad Manners,
Main Source,
Kurtis Blow,
Franke,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Amon Düül II,
Chris & Cosey,
Make Up,
Fear,
Brand Nubian,
Urselle,
Deakin,
June Days,
Circle Jerks,
Donny Hathaway,
X-Ray Spex,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Joy Division,
David McCallum,
Rapeman,
Mo-Dettes,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.