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 Dominica and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Cairo.
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 spring reverb 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 Roxy Music to the techno 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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Jacob Miller,
Chrome,
Hot Snakes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marcia Griffiths,
Andrew Hill,
Sparks,
Henry Cow,
Cal Tjader,
Monks,
Blake Baxter,
The Offenders,
Saccharine Trust,
Echospace,
Patti Smith,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Fire Engines,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Main Source,
Joe Finger,
Theoretical Girls,
Delta 5,
Albert Ayler,
the Human League,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Durutti Column,
Flipper,
Scott Walker,
Model 500,
The Last Poets,
Roxy Music,
The Remains,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Red Krayola,
Can,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Suburban Knight,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Deadbeat,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bootsy Collins,
Sun City Girls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Metal Thangz,
Babytalk,
Marine Girls,
Sonic Youth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Negative Approach,
The Litter,
Don Cherry,
Rites of Spring,
The Techniques,
Tubeway Army,
Panda Bear,
Soft Cell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Move,
Cheater Slicks,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.