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 Spain and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet 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 The Gun Club to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
The Fortunes,
Marine Girls,
Bob Dylan,
X-102,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pantytec,
48th St. Collective,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fuzztones,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Altered Images,
Ludus,
Darondo,
Crooked Eye,
Circle Jerks,
The Gladiators,
Blancmange,
Procol Harum,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Oneida,
Scion,
Sugar Minott,
Todd Rundgren,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Man Eating Sloth,
Janne Schatter,
The Slits,
Tom Boy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Iggy Pop,
Glenn Branca,
Roger Hodgson,
Erasure,
Wasted Youth,
Morten Harket,
Donny Hathaway,
Zero Boys,
Funky Four + One,
Henry Cow,
X-Ray Spex,
The New Christs,
John Foxx,
The Moleskins,
Black Bananas,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Remains,
Chris & Cosey,
The Dirtbombs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sixth Finger,
Joensuu 1685,
Nick Fraelich,
Stetsasonic,
Moebius,
Lee Hazlewood,
CMW,
Loose Ends,
Scrapy,
The Mummies,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.