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 Bahamas and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 David Bowie 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 Stiv Bators to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Bang On A Can,
Liliput,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Last Poets,
Quadrant,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Swans,
Symarip,
John Coltrane,
The Red Krayola,
Amazonics,
Deadbeat,
Country Teasers,
DJ Sneak,
The Pretty Things,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pere Ubu,
B.T. Express,
F. McDonald,
Duran Duran,
Depeche Mode,
Malaria!,
Sixth Finger,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eric Dolphy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Barry Ungar,
Harry Pussy,
Bluetip,
The Motions,
Joey Negro,
Jacques Brel,
Sonic Youth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Faraquet,
The Busters,
Moby Grape,
Arthur Verocai,
The Golliwogs,
Das Ding,
Jawbox,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Deakin,
Electric Prunes,
L. Decosne,
Bobby Byrd,
Heaven 17,
Nils Olav,
Young Marble Giants,
Lindisfarne,
Bad Manners,
Scientists,
The Dirtbombs,
The Smoke,
The Sound,
Grauzone,
OOIOO,
John Foxx,
Little Man,
Ohio Players,
Bush Tetras,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.