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 Czech Republic and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar 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 Lou Reed 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cure,
Carl Craig,
D'Angelo,
Blancmange,
Stockholm Monsters,
Amon Düül II,
Tom Boy,
the Human League,
Man Parrish,
Vainqueur,
Au Pairs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Angels of Light,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gang Gang Dance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Siglo XX,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Crash Course in Science,
E-Dancer,
Junior Murvin,
The Flesh Eaters,
Section 25,
Brand Nubian,
Rod Modell,
Chrome,
The Motions,
The Smiths,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
B.T. Express,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Anakelly,
Prince Buster,
Shoche,
Quantec,
Gang Starr,
Camberwell Now,
The Detroit Cobras,
Clear Light,
Scientists,
The Remains,
Flash Fearless,
Skriet,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bad Manners,
Michelle Simonal,
Von Mondo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
James White and The Blacks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Henry Cow,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Q65,
Audionom,
The Evens,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Skatalites,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.