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 Tanzania and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mission of Burma to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
X-Ray Spex,
Crooked Eye,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sam Rivers,
The Selecter,
Patti Smith,
The Fugs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Depeche Mode,
The Invisible,
T.S.O.L.,
Pulsallama,
Khruangbin,
Bootsy Collins,
Nik Kershaw,
The Vogues,
Cheater Slicks,
Delta 5,
Curtis Mayfield,
Reuben Wilson,
Mantronix,
Rites of Spring,
Livin' Joy,
Slave,
Mr. Review,
Tres Demented,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Knickerbockers,
David Bowie,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Easy Going,
The Pretty Things,
The Red Krayola,
Kerrie Biddell,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Fuzztones,
The Gladiators,
Blake Baxter,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eddi Front,
Susan Cadogan,
John Coltrane,
Faraquet,
Black Pus,
Index,
X-101,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Human League,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Agitation Free,
In Retrospect,
Danielle Patucci,
Joey Negro,
Funkadelic,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bobby Womack,
Joy Division,
Hot Snakes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Amazonics,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.