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 Malawi and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Black Pus to the crunk 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
The J.B.'s,
Lalann,
Severed Heads,
Swell Maps,
Traffic Nightmare,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soul II Soul,
The Names,
AZ,
Don Cherry,
48th St. Collective,
The Searchers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Banda Bassotti,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Qualms,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Letta Mbulu,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Vladislav Delay,
The Cowsills,
Erasure,
David McCallum,
Reuben Wilson,
The Cure,
T.S.O.L.,
Jeff Mills,
Kenny Larkin,
The Busters,
The Divine Comedy,
Barry Ungar,
Pylon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Unwound,
Aswad,
Althea and Donna,
Mary Jane Girls,
Parry Music,
The Litter,
Monks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Flipper,
Aural Exciters,
Fat Boys,
Mission of Burma,
Delta 5,
Pussy Galore,
Stereo Dub,
Frankie Knuckles,
Vainqueur,
T. Rex,
Gang of Four,
Joy Division,
Graham Central Station,
Franke,
Rites of Spring,
Guru Guru,
The Tremeloes,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.