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 Kazakhstan and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 snare 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 The Remains to the disco 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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Minor Threat,
Ultravox,
Echospace,
Eddi Front,
The Associates,
The J.B.'s,
Animal Collective,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marshall Jefferson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Moby Grape,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tom Boy,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gun Club,
ABC,
Masters at Work,
David Bowie,
Hot Snakes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Saints,
Gong,
Ohio Players,
The Monks,
Subhumans,
Brand Nubian,
The Victims,
Nico,
The Divine Comedy,
Lindisfarne,
The Velvet Underground,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Techniques,
Ludus,
L. Decosne,
Royal Trux,
Magma,
Goldenarms,
Bill Near,
48th St. Collective,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Alton Ellis,
The Red Krayola,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fatback Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Eric Copeland,
Surgeon,
Television Personalities,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Absolute Body Control,
Colin Newman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sex Pistols,
These Immortal Souls,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Television,
Negative Approach,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.