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 Morocco and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Icehouse to the rock 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
The Fire Engines,
Leonard Cohen,
Mantronix,
Eve St. Jones,
Stockholm Monsters,
Franke,
Soft Cell,
The Leaves,
The Selecter,
Davy DMX,
Pylon,
Howard Jones,
Pierre Henry,
F. McDonald,
Marvin Gaye,
Gang Starr,
Tommy Roe,
Man Eating Sloth,
K-Klass,
Loose Ends,
Das Ding,
Sällskapet,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Stereo Dub,
Tom Boy,
The Happenings,
The Red Krayola,
Rites of Spring,
Soul II Soul,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bill Wells,
Jeff Lynne,
The Dead C,
Blake Baxter,
Sun Ra,
Letta Mbulu,
Wasted Youth,
James White and The Blacks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Accadde A,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fatback Band,
Scrapy,
Lindisfarne,
Second Layer,
The Buckinghams,
Popol Vuh,
Urselle,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
June Days,
The Wake,
Mission of Burma,
David Axelrod,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Young Rascals,
Ten City,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.