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 Morocco and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba 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 Freddie Wadling to the disco 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
F. McDonald,
Tropical Tobacco,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Toni Rubio,
Lou Christie,
Talk Talk,
Minor Threat,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bootsy Collins,
Soft Machine,
Prince Buster,
Black Pus,
The Remains,
Bill Near,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Slits,
Bobby Sherman,
Flamin' Groovies,
X-Ray Spex,
Easy Going,
Hoover,
Freddie Wadling,
Altered Images,
Buzzcocks,
Monolake,
Soul II Soul,
Jeff Lynne,
ABC,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Absolute Body Control,
Ohio Players,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pussy Galore,
Bizarre Inc.,
Agent Orange,
Spoonie Gee,
Bad Manners,
Kerrie Biddell,
Japan,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scratch Acid,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Monochrome Set,
Davy DMX,
Kayak,
Circle Jerks,
Dual Sessions,
Pet Shop Boys,
48th St. Collective,
Simply Red,
Ken Boothe,
Make Up,
Motorama,
The Vogues,
Blancmange,
The Names,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.