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 Botswana and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
ABC,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Invisible,
The Residents,
One Last Wish,
Theoretical Girls,
JFA,
X-102,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Japan,
Junior Murvin,
Fad Gadget,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Smiths,
Cheater Slicks,
The Trojans,
Sexual Harrassment,
Infiniti,
Erykah Badu,
Heaven 17,
the Soft Cell,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Avey Tare,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Donny Hathaway,
U.S. Maple,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marmalade,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Divine Comedy,
John Lydon,
Henry Cow,
Iggy Pop,
Kerrie Biddell,
Hardrive,
The Fortunes,
Camberwell Now,
The Raincoats,
Bob Dylan,
Roy Ayers,
Main Source,
48th St. Collective,
Albert Ayler,
Lou Reed,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jandek,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Litter,
Rapeman,
The Evens,
Newcleus,
Don Cherry,
Alison Limerick,
The New Christs,
The Fuzztones,
UT,
Banda Bassotti,
Man Parrish,
Swell Maps,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.