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 Honduras and from Bologna.
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 Manila and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 organ 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 Spoonie Gee to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
Kas Product,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Heaven 17,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ronnie Foster,
John Lydon,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bad Manners,
These Immortal Souls,
Television,
Graham Central Station,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tears for Fears,
Stereo Dub,
Hashim,
The Mojo Men,
The Slackers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cheater Slicks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Aswad,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Angels of Light,
The Names,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Severed Heads,
Rapeman,
Make Up,
Cymande,
Sam Rivers,
Index,
Blancmange,
Monks,
Bobby Sherman,
Quantec,
The Cosmic Jokers,
UT,
David McCallum,
The Gories,
Bootsy Collins,
Lalann,
Quando Quango,
The Doobie Brothers,
48th St. Collective,
The Gladiators,
Black Moon,
Skaos,
Rotary Connection,
Rod Modell,
Babytalk,
Soul II Soul,
The Sonics,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Toni Rubio,
Lou Christie,
The Knickerbockers,
Jawbox,
Man Parrish,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.