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 Zimbabwe 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 harpsichord 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 Tim Buckley to the rock 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Residents,
Sexual Harrassment,
Clear Light,
The Wake,
Pulsallama,
Joe Finger,
The Fire Engines,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gastr Del Sol,
Royal Trux,
Bronski Beat,
Zapp,
Trumans Water,
Ronan,
Yusef Lateef,
Rotary Connection,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Busters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Derrick May,
Interpol,
Malaria!,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Metal Thangz,
Neil Young,
Sarah Menescal,
Pet Shop Boys,
Minutemen,
Byron Stingily,
Anakelly,
Suicide,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Wolf Eyes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
FM Einheit,
Reagan Youth,
the Association,
Banda Bassotti,
Gang Starr,
The Cowsills,
Morten Harket,
Altered Images,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Fall,
Von Mondo,
the Swans,
Jandek,
Kas Product,
H. Thieme,
Supertramp,
Vladislav Delay,
Bobby Byrd,
Sandy B,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joe Smooth,
KRS-One,
Jacques Brel,
Mark Hollis,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.