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 Ukraine and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 X-Ray Spex to the techno 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
The Mummies,
Andrew Hill,
Pussy Galore,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Charles Mingus,
Warsaw,
John Lydon,
Letta Mbulu,
Mo-Dettes,
Wire,
Jacob Miller,
Fugazi,
The Leaves,
Massinfluence,
Fat Boys,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Junior Murvin,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Donald Byrd,
The Knickerbockers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Johnny Osbourne,
Neil Young,
Leonard Cohen,
The Monks,
Fear,
Tim Buckley,
Soft Cell,
Half Japanese,
The Shadows of Knight,
Boogie Down Productions,
New Order,
Babytalk,
Amazonics,
The Flesh Eaters,
Archie Shepp,
Marmalade,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ornette Coleman,
Franke,
Cluster,
Loose Ends,
Blossom Toes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sixth Finger,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Arthur Verocai,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Arab on Radar,
Bobby Byrd,
John Coltrane,
David McCallum,
The Moleskins,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Fela Kuti,
John Foxx,
the Soft Cell,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Gap Band,
U.S. Maple,
Brand Nubian,
Youth Brigade,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.