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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kool Moe Dee to the grunge 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators 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 dance 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 theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Radiopuhelimet,
Chris & Cosey,
Newcleus,
Cecil Taylor,
Charles Mingus,
Eddi Front,
The Fall,
Scott Walker,
Scrapy,
Pylon,
Harry Pussy,
Chris Corsano,
New York Dolls,
Little Man,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marmalade,
Wings,
Toni Rubio,
E-Dancer,
Mad Mike,
Audionom,
Funkadelic,
The Cowsills,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Durutti Column,
Motorama,
Bobby Womack,
Godley & Creme,
Alton Ellis,
Liliput,
Barry Ungar,
Heaven 17,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lalann,
The Standells,
Nico,
U.S. Maple,
Stiv Bators,
Morten Harket,
Todd Terry,
Grauzone,
The Slits,
Skaos,
Skriet,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Soulsonic Force,
Von Mondo,
Arcadia,
cv313,
Crash Course in Science,
Mo-Dettes,
K-Klass,
Terry Callier,
Crime,
Flamin' Groovies,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Clear Light,
Sandy B,
Suicide,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.