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 Zambia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 organ 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 Jacques Brel to the punk 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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
the Fania All-Stars,
Drexciya,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
James White and The Blacks,
Robert Wyatt,
The Remains,
This Heat,
E-Dancer,
The Monochrome Set,
Sister Nancy,
China Crisis,
The Fire Engines,
Lalann,
Liliput,
Dual Sessions,
JFA,
The Saints,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fatback Band,
The Stooges,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Cosmic Jokers,
Erasure,
Magma,
Sällskapet,
The Five Americans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Derrick May,
Gong,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crime,
Eli Mardock,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
New Order,
Icehouse,
Tom Boy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Joey Negro,
ABBA,
Animal Collective,
Crash Course in Science,
Terrestrial Tones,
a-ha,
The Dead C,
Urselle,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The American Breed,
Janne Schatter,
X-101,
D'Angelo,
Grey Daturas,
Easy Going,
Letta Mbulu,
Bang On A Can,
Porter Ricks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Beau Brummels,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.