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 Bahrain and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Edmonton.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Schoolly D to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Silicon Teens,
Blake Baxter,
The Techniques,
R.M.O.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pole,
Chris & Cosey,
Malaria!,
Ohio Players,
Spandau Ballet,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cal Tjader,
Brass Construction,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lower 48,
Zero Boys,
Donald Byrd,
Parry Music,
Monolake,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sonny Sharrock,
T.S.O.L.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Young Rascals,
Fat Boys,
Cameo,
Oblivians,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joe Finger,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hot Snakes,
Mandrill,
Altered Images,
Robert Hood,
Terry Callier,
Roger Hodgson,
Nas,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Index,
Gabor Szabo,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Residents,
Loose Ends,
Duran Duran,
Crime,
The Zeros,
The Happenings,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Raincoats,
the Germs,
Sam Rivers,
Dennis Brown,
Lindisfarne,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Skarface,
Lungfish,
Slick Rick,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.