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 Tuvalu and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Grandmaster Flash to the techno 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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Crispy Ambulance,
Aswad,
Niagra,
Subhumans,
Basic Channel,
The Offenders,
These Immortal Souls,
Swell Maps,
The Moleskins,
This Heat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Quando Quango,
Gabor Szabo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Darondo,
Urselle,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ultimate Spinach,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Swans,
The Fall,
Jerry's Kids,
Cheater Slicks,
The Saints,
The Busters,
Ultravox,
Pet Shop Boys,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Invisible,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Womack,
Lebanon Hanover,
Adolescents,
Crash Course in Science,
Archie Shepp,
Barry Ungar,
The Real Kids,
Man Eating Sloth,
ABBA,
The Music Machine,
Trumans Water,
Royal Trux,
Negative Approach,
Circle Jerks,
Jeff Lynne,
Frankie Knuckles,
Hoover,
Bill Wells,
Underground Resistance,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fear,
kango's stein massive,
Cybotron,
Isaac Hayes,
Ohio Players,
Pylon,
New Order,
Anakelly,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.