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 Paris.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manchester.
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 mellotron 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 Visage to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Country Teasers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jacob Miller,
Fat Boys,
Swell Maps,
Drexciya,
Sandy B,
The Litter,
Guru Guru,
Duran Duran,
Fluxion,
Donald Byrd,
The United States of America,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Barracudas,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kenny Larkin,
China Crisis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Electric Prunes,
Newcleus,
Excepter,
Stereo Dub,
Eric B and Rakim,
Outsiders,
Bluetip,
Alison Limerick,
Technova,
L. Decosne,
Lalann,
Liliput,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Surgeon,
Desert Stars,
Connie Case,
B.T. Express,
Cluster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Circle Jerks,
The Electric Prunes,
Jeff Lynne,
The Birthday Party,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marine Girls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Smoke,
Lakeside,
Organ,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Avey Tare,
The Last Poets,
The Happenings,
These Immortal Souls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.