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 Vanuatu and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 spring reverb 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 Lalann to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warren Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Camouflage,
Shoche,
B.T. Express,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Tremeloes,
T. Rex,
Malaria!,
Bang On A Can,
Drive Like Jehu,
Minor Threat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
a-ha,
John Holt,
Stereo Dub,
Tommy Roe,
The Residents,
H. Thieme,
Prince Buster,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Sonics,
La Düsseldorf,
Unrelated Segments,
Faraquet,
The Durutti Column,
Donald Byrd,
The Seeds,
Michelle Simonal,
The Black Dice,
Shuggie Otis,
Talk Talk,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Busters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Raincoats,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nils Olav,
Lungfish,
Dennis Brown,
Hardrive,
Grandmaster Flash,
Al Stewart,
Y Pants,
K-Klass,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Searchers,
Excepter,
Crash Course in Science,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bill Near,
Quadrant,
Robert Görl,
Kaleidoscope,
Johnny Osbourne,
Public Enemy,
The Mojo Men,
Hashim,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.