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 Cameroon and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Maurizio to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Magazine,
Scientists,
New York Dolls,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Monks,
Joe Finger,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bill Near,
Young Marble Giants,
Moby Grape,
Lalann,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Negative Approach,
Y Pants,
R.M.O.,
Nick Fraelich,
Arab on Radar,
Kevin Saunderson,
Amazonics,
Alphaville,
Dead Boys,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Deakin,
Bob Dylan,
Kerri Chandler,
The Count Five,
Outsiders,
Gong,
The Monochrome Set,
the Sonics,
B.T. Express,
The Human League,
The Fugs,
Sight & Sound,
Marcia Griffiths,
Icehouse,
Tropical Tobacco,
Von Mondo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Seeds,
Excepter,
Slick Rick,
Siglo XX,
Man Eating Sloth,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Mojo Men,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kas Product,
The Dirtbombs,
Smog,
Kayak,
Delta 5,
KRS-One,
the Normal,
Susan Cadogan,
Darondo,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.