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 Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the electroclash 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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Mad Mike,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Star Department,
The Victims,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Faraquet,
Royal Trux,
The Slackers,
The Cramps,
Fat Boys,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Buzzcocks,
Godley & Creme,
The Sonics,
Tomorrow,
Janne Schatter,
Kerri Chandler,
Johnny Clarke,
Moebius,
Schoolly D,
Saccharine Trust,
The Dead C,
Todd Rundgren,
The Flesh Eaters,
Q and Not U,
This Heat,
Vainqueur,
The American Breed,
Alphaville,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Angels of Light,
Pet Shop Boys,
Judy Mowatt,
Flipper,
Amazonics,
Alison Limerick,
John Foxx,
Fatback Band,
Smog,
Nik Kershaw,
Fela Kuti,
Camberwell Now,
Minnie Riperton,
Malaria!,
Wally Richardson,
These Immortal Souls,
Symarip,
Man Parrish,
Neil Young,
Severed Heads,
Susan Cadogan,
Theoretical Girls,
Al Stewart,
Boz Scaggs,
Flamin' Groovies,
New Age Steppers,
Eden Ahbez,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.