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 Papua New Guinea and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Youth Brigade to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Warren Ellis,
The Mummies,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Zeros,
Y Pants,
Dual Sessions,
Gang Green,
Big Daddy Kane,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Organ,
Susan Cadogan,
Kaleidoscope,
Fatback Band,
Mark Hollis,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
a-ha,
Main Source,
Joyce Sims,
Zero Boys,
Flash Fearless,
Skaos,
Subhumans,
Tim Buckley,
Q65,
Roy Ayers,
Procol Harum,
Unrelated Segments,
Rapeman,
Mr. Review,
B.T. Express,
Arcadia,
Stetsasonic,
The Monochrome Set,
Frankie Knuckles,
Aswad,
Angry Samoans,
Amon Düül II,
Robert Görl,
Sällskapet,
Negative Approach,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Das Ding,
Underground Resistance,
Mad Mike,
Duran Duran,
Stereo Dub,
Suburban Knight,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mo-Dettes,
Alphaville,
Gong,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scan 7,
Fifty Foot Hose,
OOIOO,
Hot Snakes,
Fugazi,
Nas,
Jeru the Damaja,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.