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 Kuwait and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Boogie Down Productions to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Rapeman,
The Skatalites,
Ten City,
Lyres,
Lee Hazlewood,
Electric Prunes,
The Monks,
Parry Music,
Clear Light,
Juan Atkins,
A Certain Ratio,
The Black Dice,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Livin' Joy,
Sister Nancy,
U.S. Maple,
The Victims,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Buckinghams,
Michelle Simonal,
Fad Gadget,
Agitation Free,
Byron Stingily,
Cluster,
Drexciya,
Hardrive,
X-Ray Spex,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Gladiators,
Dark Day,
Wally Richardson,
Accadde A,
The Birthday Party,
Harry Pussy,
The Red Krayola,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Neon Judgement,
Liliput,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Anthony Braxton,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Schoolly D,
The Fire Engines,
Alice Coltrane,
Subhumans,
Janne Schatter,
Yaz,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Moon,
The Wake,
Boredoms,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The United States of America,
China Crisis,
New Order,
Rekid,
Al Stewart,
The Index,
The Searchers,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.