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 Belize and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar 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 The Martian to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Traffic Nightmare,
L. Decosne,
The Searchers,
OOIOO,
Outsiders,
Goldenarms,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nils Olav,
Bill Near,
Maurizio,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Stereo Dub,
Don Cherry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fugs,
The Litter,
Ultravox,
Patti Smith,
The Doobie Brothers,
Soft Machine,
Eddi Front,
The Wake,
Rosa Yemen,
Amon Düül II,
ABBA,
The Associates,
Electric Prunes,
John Holt,
Monolake,
Wasted Youth,
Tears for Fears,
Bob Dylan,
Soul II Soul,
Subhumans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Warren Ellis,
Scratch Acid,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The United States of America,
Joensuu 1685,
Theoretical Girls,
Skarface,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pantytec,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Todd Rundgren,
Gang Green,
Nirvana,
The Buckinghams,
Camberwell Now,
the Association,
Moebius,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
MDC,
The Residents,
Sällskapet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.