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 Lebanon and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Birthday Party to the disco 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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Amon Düül II,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Vogues,
The Mojo Men,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Names,
Kaleidoscope,
The Buckinghams,
Metal Thangz,
Junior Murvin,
The Last Poets,
Average White Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Royal Trux,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Gap Band,
T. Rex,
The Leaves,
Smog,
Rhythm & Sound,
X-101,
Grandmaster Flash,
Subhumans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Minnie Riperton,
Bobby Sherman,
The Toasters,
Bob Dylan,
Kerri Chandler,
Sarah Menescal,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fear,
John Cale,
Camberwell Now,
Severed Heads,
Public Enemy,
Steve Hackett,
Toni Rubio,
Fugazi,
Neu!,
The Mummies,
MDC,
Black Flag,
Arthur Verocai,
Minor Threat,
In Retrospect,
Spoonie Gee,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The J.B.'s,
Skarface,
the Swans,
Fad Gadget,
The Slits,
Angry Samoans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Germs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bizarre Inc.,
Anakelly,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.