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 Mozambique and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Malaria! to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
The Searchers,
China Crisis,
Stereo Dub,
Drive Like Jehu,
Nils Olav,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
cv313,
Lee Hazlewood,
T.S.O.L.,
Country Teasers,
Infiniti,
John Coltrane,
Harry Pussy,
Quantec,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Easy Going,
Accadde A,
The Martian,
John Foxx,
Deepchord,
Aural Exciters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Symarip,
Con Funk Shun,
Scott Walker,
ABBA,
Slick Rick,
Ash Ra Tempel,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Q65,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crispy Ambulance,
Davy DMX,
Terrestrial Tones,
La Düsseldorf,
Mandrill,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barrington Levy,
The Walker Brothers,
Roy Ayers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gerry Rafferty,
Swans,
48th St. Collective,
The Fall,
Chris & Cosey,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jimmy McGriff,
Glenn Branca,
The Busters,
Darondo,
Half Japanese,
Matthew Bourne,
Bad Manners,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.