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 Cuba and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 808 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 The Monks 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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
The Beau Brummels,
Charles Mingus,
Technova,
a-ha,
Aaron Thompson,
The Gories,
DJ Style,
Mars,
Massinfluence,
The Sonics,
Lower 48,
Jacob Miller,
Khruangbin,
The Birthday Party,
Spandau Ballet,
Clear Light,
Ludus,
Swans,
Terry Callier,
Trumans Water,
Blossom Toes,
KRS-One,
The Toasters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
D'Angelo,
The Slackers,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Busters,
Organ,
Q65,
Cheater Slicks,
Sugar Minott,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sonic Youth,
Robert Wyatt,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fad Gadget,
Cluster,
Ornette Coleman,
Eve St. Jones,
Todd Rundgren,
The Stooges,
Rod Modell,
Con Funk Shun,
Nico,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Quando Quango,
Duran Duran,
Nick Fraelich,
Saccharine Trust,
Wire,
Magma,
Intrusion,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ken Boothe,
Heaven 17,
The Five Americans,
Scott Walker,
Lakeside,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.