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 Malaysia and from Salvador.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Marvin Gaye to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Donald Byrd,
Kayak,
Whodini,
Slick Rick,
Nico,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scrapy,
Yusef Lateef,
The Last Poets,
Minny Pops,
X-Ray Spex,
Infiniti,
Inner City,
Minutemen,
Iggy Pop,
Model 500,
Fatback Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Patti Smith,
Juan Atkins,
ABC,
Flash Fearless,
In Retrospect,
The Fall,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eden Ahbez,
Adolescents,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bootsy Collins,
Malaria!,
Roxette,
Traffic Nightmare,
Junior Murvin,
Gichy Dan,
The Electric Prunes,
EPMD,
Neu!,
Lakeside,
Boredoms,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ossler,
Thompson Twins,
Moby Grape,
Sugar Minott,
Faraquet,
The Beau Brummels,
Young Marble Giants,
Icehouse,
Bill Wells,
The Buckinghams,
Suburban Knight,
The Index,
One Last Wish,
Lou Reed,
Ronan,
T. Rex,
The Saints,
Ultravox,
Funky Four + One,
Reuben Wilson,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.