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 Cuba and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Black Bananas to the rap 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Animal Collective,
Aswad,
Supertramp,
Simply Red,
The Fuzztones,
Pussy Galore,
Fatback Band,
Pantaleimon,
John Holt,
David McCallum,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dorothy Ashby,
F. McDonald,
Stiv Bators,
Johnny Clarke,
Buzzcocks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joy Division,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Golliwogs,
Procol Harum,
Neu!,
Icehouse,
The Evens,
Gang Starr,
Qualms,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ken Boothe,
Lou Christie,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ludus,
Al Stewart,
Kool Moe Dee,
Los Fastidios,
The Flesh Eaters,
Alice Coltrane,
Rapeman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mission of Burma,
Alison Limerick,
The Happenings,
Audionom,
Quantec,
The Fugs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Hasil Adkins,
The American Breed,
Rosa Yemen,
The Blues Magoos,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dawn Penn,
Inner City,
Scratch Acid,
The Velvet Underground,
Althea and Donna,
Traffic Nightmare,
Judy Mowatt,
Sonic Youth,
Smog,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.