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 Namibia and from New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Fall to the crunk 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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Rekid,
The United States of America,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cal Tjader,
Bill Wells,
Pantytec,
The Remains,
Roger Hodgson,
Susan Cadogan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Don Cherry,
F. McDonald,
The Fortunes,
Icehouse,
Y Pants,
Darondo,
Ronan,
Dennis Brown,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Dirtbombs,
Lou Reed,
Byron Stingily,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Vogues,
Inner City,
Groovy Waters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Neon Judgement,
Rapeman,
Can,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Silicon Teens,
Delta 5,
Infiniti,
June of 44,
Eve St. Jones,
Erasure,
Jacques Brel,
The Birthday Party,
cv313,
Ludus,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kenny Larkin,
Joensuu 1685,
Wally Richardson,
CMW,
Wings,
Flash Fearless,
Thee Headcoats,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wire,
Ronnie Foster,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Pop Group,
Harmonia,
The Red Krayola,
These Immortal Souls,
Masters at Work,
Dark Day,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.