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 Senegal and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Marshall Jefferson to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
The Monochrome Set,
Excepter,
F. McDonald,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Coltrane,
The Cramps,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The American Breed,
Ultra Naté,
Minny Pops,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fluxion,
Pussy Galore,
Black Sheep,
Rapeman,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Marc Almond,
Bobby Womack,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Standells,
Agent Orange,
Archie Shepp,
DNA,
Y Pants,
Jerry Gold Smith,
KRS-One,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sandy B,
Hashim,
Bootsy Collins,
Eve St. Jones,
Swell Maps,
Peter and Kerry,
The Smoke,
T.S.O.L.,
Ludus,
H. Thieme,
The Motions,
Byron Stingily,
Harry Pussy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Guru Guru,
Wings,
Brick,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fatback Band,
Roxette,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cal Tjader,
Country Teasers,
Joe Finger,
K-Klass,
Half Japanese,
Iggy Pop,
The Cowsills,
Black Bananas,
Throbbing Gristle,
New Order,
the Sonics,
Don Cherry,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.