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 Guinea and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 guitar 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nik Kershaw,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Unwound,
Das Ding,
Yusef Lateef,
The Sonics,
Funky Four + One,
Lalo Schifrin,
10cc,
Wasted Youth,
The Cowsills,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bootsy Collins,
8 Eyed Spy,
Brothers Johnson,
Fear,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pussy Galore,
New Order,
Grey Daturas,
Crooked Eye,
Sister Nancy,
Ohio Players,
Toni Rubio,
Marvin Gaye,
ABBA,
Chris Corsano,
Erasure,
Vladislav Delay,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Zapp,
Urselle,
Electric Prunes,
Laurel Aitken,
Ice-T,
L. Decosne,
Sight & Sound,
Main Source,
Dual Sessions,
Angry Samoans,
Qualms,
Crime,
Von Mondo,
Joyce Sims,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cybotron,
Skarface,
The Fortunes,
Eden Ahbez,
Fugazi,
China Crisis,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dave Gahan,
New Age Steppers,
Gichy Dan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cheater Slicks,
Lyres,
Amon Düül II,
Marine Girls,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.