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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Freddie Wadling to the rock 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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
The Saints,
Stockholm Monsters,
Harmonia,
John Lydon,
The Victims,
The Electric Prunes,
The American Breed,
Marc Almond,
Jacques Brel,
DNA,
The Associates,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bobby Sherman,
Boogie Down Productions,
One Last Wish,
Underground Resistance,
Bang On A Can,
Icehouse,
The J.B.'s,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Roy Ayers,
Television,
Josef K,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jacob Miller,
8 Eyed Spy,
Masters at Work,
Section 25,
PIL,
Gong,
Cymande,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Oneida,
AZ,
Swell Maps,
The Music Machine,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sixth Finger,
The Kinks,
Cal Tjader,
Joyce Sims,
Second Layer,
Bush Tetras,
Heaven 17,
Donny Hathaway,
Alphaville,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Sonics,
Traffic Nightmare,
Severed Heads,
Vladislav Delay,
Neu!,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.