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 Marshall Islands and from Delhi.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gong to the dance 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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
U.S. Maple,
Silicon Teens,
Mark Hollis,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jeff Lynne,
Young Marble Giants,
The Modern Lovers,
Nils Olav,
Amazonics,
Livin' Joy,
New York Dolls,
The Martian,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Circle Jerks,
Blake Baxter,
The Residents,
The Saints,
Tres Demented,
A Certain Ratio,
JFA,
Ossler,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bobby Womack,
Oneida,
the Germs,
Idris Muhammad,
Radio Birdman,
Massinfluence,
Prince Buster,
One Last Wish,
Hoover,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Skarface,
The Raincoats,
Rapeman,
Darondo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Agent Orange,
The Remains,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arcadia,
Moss Icon,
Colin Newman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fugazi,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Aaron Thompson,
Pantytec,
Animal Collective,
Marc Almond,
Wasted Youth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Music Machine,
The Blues Magoos,
Janne Schatter,
Severed Heads,
The Invisible,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sun City Girls,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.