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 Uzbekistan and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drive Like Jehu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Robert Görl,
Ultravox,
T. Rex,
Guru Guru,
The Fuzztones,
The Music Machine,
the Slits,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lungfish,
The Mummies,
Janne Schatter,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Arab on Radar,
Alice Coltrane,
Parry Music,
Scion,
The Red Krayola,
Mary Jane Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
Joe Smooth,
Negative Approach,
Kaleidoscope,
Joy Division,
T.S.O.L.,
Warren Ellis,
James White and The Blacks,
Television,
Masters at Work,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sandy B,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Big Daddy Kane,
Soul Sonic Force,
Animal Collective,
Brass Construction,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eddi Front,
Echospace,
Radiopuhelimet,
Johnny Clarke,
Shuggie Otis,
The Last Poets,
The Beau Brummels,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Cowsills,
Sex Pistols,
The Alarm Clocks,
Subhumans,
The Wake,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
OOIOO,
FM Einheit,
Spoonie Gee,
Chris Corsano,
Joyce Sims,
The Cure,
Stereo Dub,
Underground Resistance,
The Saints,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
New York Dolls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.