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 Liechtenstein and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Gun Club to the rap 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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
The Vogues,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Zero Boys,
Yusef Lateef,
Pere Ubu,
Rakim,
The Index,
Sixth Finger,
Adolescents,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Golliwogs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nation of Ulysses,
Frankie Knuckles,
Guru Guru,
Aaron Thompson,
Matthew Halsall,
Scientists,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Gories,
The Music Machine,
Nik Kershaw,
Second Layer,
Reagan Youth,
JFA,
These Immortal Souls,
Mark Hollis,
The Gun Club,
X-Ray Spex,
Gang Starr,
Mr. Review,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
Lower 48,
Eric Copeland,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Hashim,
Rufus Thomas,
Juan Atkins,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Siglo XX,
Suicide,
The Trojans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rapeman,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Zeros,
Fear,
Alice Coltrane,
Maurizio,
Pagans,
Spoonie Gee,
Cheater Slicks,
Duran Duran,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.