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 Moldova and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pere Ubu to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Shuggie Otis,
Jeff Mills,
Terry Callier,
Radiohead,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sexual Harrassment,
Liliput,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pylon,
Kerri Chandler,
The Velvet Underground,
This Heat,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Blues Magoos,
Glenn Branca,
The Black Dice,
Todd Rundgren,
Spoonie Gee,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Shoche,
Inner City,
Swans,
The Trojans,
The Victims,
Graham Central Station,
Newcleus,
Urselle,
Lalo Schifrin,
Mr. Review,
Bang On A Can,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Red Krayola,
Grey Daturas,
Babytalk,
The Five Americans,
Gabor Szabo,
Sarah Menescal,
Blossom Toes,
The Misunderstood,
Delon & Dalcan,
R.M.O.,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Don Cherry,
kango's stein massive,
Morten Harket,
The Pop Group,
Johnny Clarke,
Aaron Thompson,
Massinfluence,
Alison Limerick,
Maurizio,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Funky Four + One,
Ossler,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fugs,
New Order,
The Kinks,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.