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 Oman and from Jakarta.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron 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 Piero Umiliani to the grunge 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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Rapeman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Y Pants,
The Barracudas,
New York Dolls,
Q65,
Graham Central Station,
Sun City Girls,
Radio Birdman,
The New Christs,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Swans,
The Wake,
Inner City,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tomorrow,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ronnie Foster,
Tubeway Army,
the Soft Cell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Avey Tare,
Hoover,
Jeff Lynne,
Black Bananas,
Skarface,
Pantytec,
Con Funk Shun,
Johnny Clarke,
The Birthday Party,
Index,
Peter & Gordon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gichy Dan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Searchers,
The Names,
Robert Wyatt,
Delta 5,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Jeru the Damaja,
Neu!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Slackers,
AZ,
Moebius,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Harmonia,
The Black Dice,
Maleditus Sound,
Amazonics,
Mandrill,
Terry Callier,
Metal Thangz,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.