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 Rwanda and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 chamberlin 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 Rapeman to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Country Teasers,
Roger Hodgson,
Fluxion,
This Heat,
Fugazi,
Eric Dolphy,
Hasil Adkins,
The Names,
Eve St. Jones,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Metal Thangz,
Hashim,
Warren Ellis,
John Coltrane,
the Sonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Leonard Cohen,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Isaac Hayes,
The Dirtbombs,
Drive Like Jehu,
China Crisis,
Skaos,
Adolescents,
Amon Düül,
Liliput,
Lalo Schifrin,
Matthew Bourne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Skarface,
Popol Vuh,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Glenn Branca,
Ultimate Spinach,
Grey Daturas,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minor Threat,
Black Moon,
The Saints,
Mark Hollis,
Black Bananas,
Stetsasonic,
Suicide,
Fela Kuti,
Television Personalities,
The Standells,
New York Dolls,
The Searchers,
Circle Jerks,
Infiniti,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
DNA,
Interpol,
Tom Boy,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.