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 Guinea and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the dance 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Franke,
Idris Muhammad,
Moss Icon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lyres,
Graham Central Station,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joe Smooth,
Wasted Youth,
Peter & Gordon,
Bootsy Collins,
Tom Boy,
Deepchord,
Rekid,
The Kinks,
Mantronix,
The Count Five,
Peter and Kerry,
Roger Hodgson,
Cal Tjader,
The Raincoats,
The Sonics,
Juan Atkins,
Dark Day,
Boz Scaggs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Stockholm Monsters,
Janne Schatter,
Banda Bassotti,
David Bowie,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Girls At Our Best!,
Silicon Teens,
The Sound,
Spoonie Gee,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Niagra,
ABBA,
The Names,
Outsiders,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Dirtbombs,
The Offenders,
Bush Tetras,
The Divine Comedy,
Judy Mowatt,
In Retrospect,
Guru Guru,
Amon Düül,
The Electric Prunes,
Gabor Szabo,
Junior Murvin,
Godley & Creme,
Desert Stars,
The Martian,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Nik Kershaw,
Sixth Finger,
The Durutti Column,
Quando Quango,
Slave,
The Real Kids,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.