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 Niger and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marmalade to the grime 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Mr. Review,
Tim Buckley,
Arthur Verocai,
Grauzone,
Mo-Dettes,
Arab on Radar,
Fad Gadget,
Leonard Cohen,
Rites of Spring,
Inner City,
Visage,
Robert Wyatt,
China Crisis,
Spandau Ballet,
T.S.O.L.,
Joey Negro,
H. Thieme,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pole,
Michelle Simonal,
Lindisfarne,
Ossler,
Ten City,
Main Source,
Niagra,
Massinfluence,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Soft Machine,
Yusef Lateef,
Von Mondo,
Ultravox,
John Holt,
Saccharine Trust,
Circle Jerks,
Boredoms,
Amon Düül II,
Camouflage,
Goldenarms,
James White and The Blacks,
Wolf Eyes,
Slick Rick,
Todd Rundgren,
The Zeros,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sonics,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Newcleus,
Sun City Girls,
The New Christs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eden Ahbez,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Detroit Cobras,
Matthew Halsall,
Danielle Patucci,
Supertramp,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Dead C,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.