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 Swaziland and from Lagos.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sexual Harrassment to the dance 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tomorrow,
The Knickerbockers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lyres,
Joe Smooth,
Malaria!,
Bang On A Can,
Lalann,
The Fuzztones,
Nick Fraelich,
Stiv Bators,
Peter and Kerry,
H. Thieme,
Godley & Creme,
Robert Hood,
Goldenarms,
Make Up,
The Skatalites,
Amazonics,
The Saints,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Swans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Gap Band,
The Busters,
Black Bananas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barbara Tucker,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Slackers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Amon Düül,
Jeru the Damaja,
Zapp,
R.M.O.,
Faust,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Techniques,
The Last Poets,
Morten Harket,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Colin Newman,
Kool Moe Dee,
Reagan Youth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mandrill,
the Sonics,
Idris Muhammad,
Sex Pistols,
The Red Krayola,
Sparks,
Japan,
David Axelrod,
Magma,
Scott Walker,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.