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 Czech Republic and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Busters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Throbbing Gristle,
Harry Pussy,
Pantaleimon,
The Doors,
Aaron Thompson,
The Monks,
The Golliwogs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Desert Stars,
Fluxion,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Move,
Peter & Gordon,
Circle Jerks,
Ossler,
Todd Terry,
Eric Dolphy,
Joe Smooth,
Subhumans,
This Heat,
Black Flag,
Clear Light,
Letta Mbulu,
Freddie Wadling,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Agent Orange,
David Bowie,
Pierre Henry,
The Angels of Light,
The Fuzztones,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minor Threat,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Quantec,
Graham Central Station,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Parry Music,
The Blues Magoos,
Eden Ahbez,
Arab on Radar,
the Human League,
48th St. Collective,
Laurel Aitken,
The Knickerbockers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Names,
The Happenings,
Can,
Moebius,
Tres Demented,
The Fortunes,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Slackers,
B.T. Express,
Blancmange,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.