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 Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Misunderstood to the jazz 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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Lower 48,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Stooges,
Joe Finger,
David Axelrod,
Bluetip,
Ossler,
Camberwell Now,
Underground Resistance,
Franke,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Sonics,
The Fall,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Divine Comedy,
The Misunderstood,
Camouflage,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Junior Murvin,
Dead Boys,
Arab on Radar,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott Heron,
Prince Buster,
X-101,
David Bowie,
Desert Stars,
Y Pants,
Spandau Ballet,
Stereo Dub,
Sound Behaviour,
New York Dolls,
The Blues Magoos,
The Smiths,
Josef K,
Throbbing Gristle,
Faraquet,
the Swans,
Funkadelic,
Livin' Joy,
Ornette Coleman,
Gabor Szabo,
Whodini,
Siglo XX,
Robert Görl,
Can,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Invisible,
Aloha Tigers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Matthew Halsall,
X-Ray Spex,
The Angels of Light,
Con Funk Shun,
Radio Birdman,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Trojans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.