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 Marshall Islands and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 linndrum 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 La Düsseldorf to the rock 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Moody Blues,
Don Cherry,
Delta 5,
Saccharine Trust,
The Searchers,
Depeche Mode,
Warsaw,
Khruangbin,
The Kinks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eddi Front,
Minutemen,
Subhumans,
Minny Pops,
Television Personalities,
Young Marble Giants,
Motorama,
Moss Icon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Funky Four + One,
Pussy Galore,
Lebanon Hanover,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Roxy Music,
PIL,
Yazoo,
Zapp,
Amazonics,
Boogie Down Productions,
Suburban Knight,
June Days,
Royal Trux,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mad Mike,
Rosa Yemen,
Ultra Naté,
A Certain Ratio,
Wings,
Lightning Bolt,
Tomorrow,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sexual Harrassment,
Wolf Eyes,
the Bar-Kays,
Johnny Clarke,
Das Ding,
The Doobie Brothers,
Animal Collective,
Kerrie Biddell,
Urselle,
Howard Jones,
Yaz,
Robert Görl,
Fatback Band,
The Music Machine,
Joensuu 1685,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.