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 South Africa and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Salvador.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lightning Bolt to the grunge 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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
The Angels of Light,
Khruangbin,
Funky Four + One,
Lalo Schifrin,
Camouflage,
The Toasters,
Lindisfarne,
Rakim,
10cc,
Aural Exciters,
Nik Kershaw,
Thompson Twins,
Junior Murvin,
Kaleidoscope,
Black Flag,
Slick Rick,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dead Boys,
EPMD,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gabor Szabo,
Pulsallama,
MDC,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Blues Magoos,
Amon Düül,
Index,
Mars,
The Neon Judgement,
X-102,
Fat Boys,
T. Rex,
Al Stewart,
Crooked Eye,
Con Funk Shun,
The Associates,
Desert Stars,
DJ Style,
Minny Pops,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Modern Lovers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobby Womack,
Robert Wyatt,
The Birthday Party,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Motorama,
Alton Ellis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Severed Heads,
Marmalade,
Main Source,
Skaos,
The Monks,
Bobby Sherman,
Mission of Burma,
Rotary Connection,
Avey Tare,
Fugazi,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.