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 Bangladesh and from Manila.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 rhodes 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 Eve St. Jones to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jeff Mills,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
James White and The Blacks,
Jerry's Kids,
Excepter,
The Martian,
LL Cool J,
Sex Pistols,
Magma,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mission of Burma,
New Order,
The Zeros,
Josef K,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Christie,
Clear Light,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Aswad,
The Remains,
The Doors,
Yusef Lateef,
Average White Band,
Brand Nubian,
JFA,
Darondo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Skatalites,
Wasted Youth,
Gregory Isaacs,
Neil Young,
Gang Green,
Bobby Womack,
Soft Cell,
Au Pairs,
Laurel Aitken,
La Düsseldorf,
Youth Brigade,
Trumans Water,
Matthew Bourne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
One Last Wish,
Sun City Girls,
Michelle Simonal,
This Heat,
Roy Ayers,
The Invisible,
Kas Product,
Angry Samoans,
Public Image Ltd.,
Minny Pops,
Traffic Nightmare,
Boredoms,
The Gladiators,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Misunderstood,
The Birthday Party,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.