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 Mali and from Taipei.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Joe Finger to the dance 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nas,
Pussy Galore,
Quadrant,
Aural Exciters,
The Martian,
Pantytec,
Kerri Chandler,
Barrington Levy,
Vladislav Delay,
Desert Stars,
Zero Boys,
Black Bananas,
Roxette,
Rapeman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
X-Ray Spex,
Tim Buckley,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Wally Richardson,
The Red Krayola,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Quantec,
the Sonics,
Connie Case,
Swans,
Wasted Youth,
The Sound,
Big Daddy Kane,
Schoolly D,
Scan 7,
This Heat,
Cameo,
Barry Ungar,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tears for Fears,
The Monochrome Set,
Kayak,
Japan,
Second Layer,
Negative Approach,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Visage,
David Bowie,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Knickerbockers,
The Slits,
AZ,
Black Sheep,
Chrome,
The Saints,
Intrusion,
Eden Ahbez,
Newcleus,
Lyres,
Crash Course in Science,
Joe Smooth,
Brass Construction,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.