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 Paraguay and from Madrid.
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 Glasgow and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Goldenarms to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
The Divine Comedy,
Nils Olav,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Maleditus Sound,
Bootsy Collins,
Bush Tetras,
Kaleidoscope,
Marmalade,
Depeche Mode,
The Dirtbombs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Grauzone,
Wally Richardson,
Pere Ubu,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lucky Dragons,
Lou Christie,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Searchers,
Rosa Yemen,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Steve Hackett,
Angry Samoans,
The Litter,
Chris Corsano,
The Young Rascals,
Brick,
Howard Jones,
June of 44,
Slave,
Graham Central Station,
David Bowie,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Young Marble Giants,
Johnny Osbourne,
Funky Four + One,
Lower 48,
The New Christs,
Hot Snakes,
Au Pairs,
X-101,
Kayak,
Y Pants,
Saccharine Trust,
Kurtis Blow,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marc Almond,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Althea and Donna,
the Germs,
Joe Finger,
The Moody Blues,
Monks,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Easy Going,
Ornette Coleman,
Crooked Eye,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Peter & Gordon,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.