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 Uruguay and from Mumbai.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 David Bowie to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Wake,
Cheater Slicks,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Misunderstood,
Warsaw,
Whodini,
Tears for Fears,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
China Crisis,
The Real Kids,
Glenn Branca,
Man Parrish,
Angry Samoans,
Flipper,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kaleidoscope,
Albert Ayler,
Erykah Badu,
The Doors,
Max Romeo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Gories,
Siglo XX,
Parry Music,
AZ,
Oblivians,
Q and Not U,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ultravox,
Lou Reed,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Unwound,
Heaven 17,
Johnny Clarke,
X-101,
Chris Corsano,
Radiohead,
Maleditus Sound,
Boogie Down Productions,
Audionom,
The Mojo Men,
48th St. Collective,
Yaz,
U.S. Maple,
OOIOO,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Magazine,
Bill Near,
Minnie Riperton,
Spoonie Gee,
Colin Newman,
The Mummies,
Godley & Creme,
David Axelrod,
Mandrill,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Shoche,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.