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 Kuwait and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 808 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 June Days to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Hoover,
T. Rex,
the Sonics,
The Beau Brummels,
La Düsseldorf,
Swans,
The Last Poets,
Qualms,
Wasted Youth,
The Monochrome Set,
Boredoms,
The Star Department,
Pagans,
Ludus,
Lyres,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
World's Most,
L. Decosne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Albert Ayler,
Jeff Lynne,
Funky Four + One,
The Dirtbombs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mars,
Eric Copeland,
Cheater Slicks,
Alison Limerick,
Thee Headcoats,
Gerry Rafferty,
F. McDonald,
Surgeon,
Todd Rundgren,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Barbara Tucker,
Panda Bear,
The Move,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Invisible,
Warsaw,
Unrelated Segments,
Minny Pops,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Loose Ends,
Zero Boys,
The Smiths,
Echospace,
Howard Jones,
The Red Krayola,
Eddi Front,
Scrapy,
Tim Buckley,
Derrick May,
Chrome,
Depeche Mode,
Visage,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lakeside,
Moby Grape,
The Dead C,
Eric B and Rakim,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.