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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 mellotron 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 Eric Copeland to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Andrew Hill,
Bush Tetras,
Pole,
Rakim,
Main Source,
The Move,
Lower 48,
Althea and Donna,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scan 7,
Amazonics,
Electric Prunes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lalann,
Fat Boys,
The Martian,
Skaos,
Smog,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Iggy Pop,
AZ,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Guru Guru,
Dark Day,
Wire,
Suicide,
Ituana,
Scratch Acid,
Porter Ricks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lebanon Hanover,
Matthew Bourne,
The Fortunes,
Donny Hathaway,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dead Boys,
Severed Heads,
the Germs,
the Soft Cell,
FM Einheit,
Laurel Aitken,
Talk Talk,
The Skatalites,
Brothers Johnson,
Radio Birdman,
Buzzcocks,
Adolescents,
The American Breed,
JFA,
Soft Machine,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
John Lydon,
Bronski Beat,
Wolf Eyes,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Golliwogs,
Nico,
Trumans Water,
Eric B and Rakim,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.