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 Delhi.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Ten City to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
John Holt,
Radio Birdman,
Roxy Music,
The Gories,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Slits,
X-Ray Spex,
Tommy Roe,
Bill Near,
Jeff Mills,
Nick Fraelich,
Davy DMX,
Minnie Riperton,
Gichy Dan,
Quantec,
The Last Poets,
Aloha Tigers,
Isaac Hayes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Niagra,
U.S. Maple,
The Zeros,
Blancmange,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Procol Harum,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scion,
Bush Tetras,
Reagan Youth,
Gang Starr,
Mars,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Seeds,
Slick Rick,
Alice Coltrane,
Robert Wyatt,
Wasted Youth,
Franke,
Amazonics,
The Blackbyrds,
Crash Course in Science,
Main Source,
New York Dolls,
Cybotron,
Mantronix,
The Searchers,
Ultra Naté,
Kevin Saunderson,
Oblivians,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Stereo Dub,
Erasure,
Public Enemy,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Blues Magoos,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soulsonic Force,
The Sound,
Delon & Dalcan,
Arab on Radar,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.