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 Comoros and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 guitar 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 Normal to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Mad Mike,
Dawn Penn,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bill Wells,
Rod Modell,
The Blackbyrds,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Babytalk,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Brand Nubian,
Kas Product,
Amazonics,
Section 25,
Suburban Knight,
Masters at Work,
Stereo Dub,
Blossom Toes,
Procol Harum,
Hot Snakes,
Prince Buster,
Chrome,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jeff Lynne,
Sound Behaviour,
Ash Ra Tempel,
T. Rex,
Cluster,
Das Ding,
Fear,
The Golliwogs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rufus Thomas,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stiv Bators,
Theoretical Girls,
The Music Machine,
Dennis Brown,
ABC,
Scan 7,
Donny Hathaway,
The Sonics,
Funkadelic,
Saccharine Trust,
The Monochrome Set,
Erasure,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Barry Ungar,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rosa Yemen,
The Last Poets,
Symarip,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marvin Gaye,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Smog,
UT,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scientists,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.