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 Bhutan and from Spokane.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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-ha to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
a-ha,
Pierre Henry,
Angry Samoans,
Quadrant,
Television Personalities,
Con Funk Shun,
Funky Four + One,
Traffic Nightmare,
Thompson Twins,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ken Boothe,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Foxx,
The Beau Brummels,
Althea and Donna,
Gang Green,
Youth Brigade,
The Techniques,
Outsiders,
Gregory Isaacs,
Laurel Aitken,
Marine Girls,
Dead Boys,
The Litter,
Gang of Four,
Jawbox,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Real Kids,
Minor Threat,
Spoonie Gee,
The Index,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
X-101,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ten City,
Scion,
Bill Near,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Anakelly,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Juan Atkins,
Delon & Dalcan,
ABBA,
DJ Sneak,
Public Enemy,
Rod Modell,
Don Cherry,
Aloha Tigers,
Crime,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fluxion,
Sight & Sound,
Matthew Halsall,
KRS-One,
Franke,
Robert Görl,
Eric Dolphy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Byron Stingily,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Thee Headcoats,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.