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 Lithuania and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 New York Dolls to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Juan Atkins,
The Smoke,
Sister Nancy,
Wasted Youth,
Joy Division,
H. Thieme,
Quantec,
Fugazi,
Depeche Mode,
Althea and Donna,
Mars,
Charles Mingus,
Kenny Larkin,
Sonic Youth,
Lindisfarne,
Ituana,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Monochrome Set,
Black Pus,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Avey Tare,
David McCallum,
Jacques Brel,
Toni Rubio,
Symarip,
Flipper,
The Mojo Men,
Zero Boys,
Eurythmics,
Kas Product,
Das Ding,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
X-102,
Bad Manners,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bobby Byrd,
Y Pants,
Rosa Yemen,
Crime,
Eric Copeland,
Fatback Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Delta 5,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tres Demented,
These Immortal Souls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Malaria!,
Crooked Eye,
Todd Rundgren,
Colin Newman,
Qualms,
Blossom Toes,
The Cowsills,
Deepchord,
Quadrant,
Dave Gahan,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aural Exciters,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.