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 Malaysia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Slick Rick to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Doors,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Surgeon,
Severed Heads,
Swell Maps,
MDC,
the Soft Cell,
The Black Dice,
Jeff Lynne,
X-Ray Spex,
Trumans Water,
Anakelly,
ABC,
Drexciya,
Wally Richardson,
Tommy Roe,
Moby Grape,
Monolake,
Tres Demented,
Sister Nancy,
The Motions,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cal Tjader,
Barrington Levy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cymande,
Vainqueur,
Q and Not U,
The Barracudas,
Slick Rick,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Visage,
Loose Ends,
The Detroit Cobras,
Main Source,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bill Near,
Fela Kuti,
The Durutti Column,
The New Christs,
Magazine,
Ken Boothe,
Rekid,
LL Cool J,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Duran Duran,
This Heat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Radiopuhelimet,
UT,
Chris & Cosey,
The Blues Magoos,
Model 500,
Flash Fearless,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Alison Limerick,
Dave Gahan,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.