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 Cuba and from Milan.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Isaac Hayes,
Marc Almond,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Danielle Patucci,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bob Dylan,
F. McDonald,
The Monochrome Set,
The Slackers,
FM Einheit,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Skatalites,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hoover,
Swans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
T.S.O.L.,
Black Moon,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Sherman,
The Residents,
Gang Green,
Don Cherry,
Dark Day,
The United States of America,
Steve Hackett,
Scan 7,
Lakeside,
The Birthday Party,
Todd Terry,
Can,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wings,
JFA,
Wire,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jesper Dahlback,
Max Romeo,
Technova,
Bush Tetras,
The Leaves,
Tommy Roe,
Pierre Henry,
DJ Sneak,
The Slits,
The Motions,
The Doors,
Rekid,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Seeds,
This Heat,
Camouflage,
E-Dancer,
Connie Case,
A Certain Ratio,
Patti Smith,
Lalann,
Sparks,
Little Man,
Circle Jerks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Das Ding,
Barry Ungar,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.