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 Iraq and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gregory Isaacs to the disco 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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Fad Gadget,
Pierre Henry,
Davy DMX,
Laurel Aitken,
Magazine,
World's Most,
Byron Stingily,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Archie Shepp,
Bob Dylan,
Guru Guru,
Pussy Galore,
The Fugs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Vainqueur,
The Dead C,
Scan 7,
The Buckinghams,
The Count Five,
Radio Birdman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dead Boys,
Technova,
The Trojans,
Bad Manners,
Mark Hollis,
Little Man,
Don Cherry,
MDC,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Quando Quango,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joyce Sims,
OOIOO,
Animal Collective,
Eric Copeland,
Crooked Eye,
Todd Rundgren,
Pylon,
CMW,
The Moleskins,
Robert Görl,
Shoche,
Ronnie Foster,
Gong,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soft Cell,
Colin Newman,
Jimmy McGriff,
Buzzcocks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Echospace,
Susan Cadogan,
The Sound,
Spoonie Gee,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bluetip,
The Evens,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.