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 Toronto.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Donald Fagen 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 DJ Style to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Sex Pistols,
Index,
the Slits,
Parry Music,
Wings,
The Alarm Clocks,
Todd Rundgren,
Arthur Verocai,
Quando Quango,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Buzzcocks,
Freddie Wadling,
Kurtis Blow,
Max Romeo,
John Holt,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rosa Yemen,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Young Marble Giants,
Kayak,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
ABC,
The Gap Band,
Brothers Johnson,
The Walker Brothers,
Lightning Bolt,
The Durutti Column,
the Association,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Quadrant,
Barrington Levy,
The Grass Roots,
The Victims,
the Germs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lou Reed,
The Invisible,
Schoolly D,
A Certain Ratio,
PIL,
Motorama,
Eurythmics,
Blossom Toes,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Easy Going,
The Smiths,
Franke,
The Slits,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Prince Buster,
Neil Young,
Dawn Penn,
One Last Wish,
The Fall,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Swell Maps,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.