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 Slovenia and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Five Americans to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Zeros. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
T.S.O.L.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Names,
Fat Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minny Pops,
Metal Thangz,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Searchers,
Silicon Teens,
The Wake,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Drexciya,
The Standells,
Animal Collective,
Babytalk,
Soulsonic Force,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Seeds,
The Young Rascals,
Fear,
Arab on Radar,
Khruangbin,
Prince Buster,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Minor Threat,
The Sound,
Saccharine Trust,
Lalann,
Amon Düül II,
The Happenings,
The Cure,
Tommy Roe,
Junior Murvin,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Martian,
Monolake,
Nirvana,
Q and Not U,
Arcadia,
Bobby Byrd,
The Count Five,
Black Moon,
Sex Pistols,
The Cowsills,
Robert Wyatt,
Soft Cell,
Toni Rubio,
B.T. Express,
The Gories,
Yazoo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Byron Stingily,
Kurtis Blow,
The Move,
Darondo,
Sun City Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.