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 Burundi and from Manila.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lalo Schifrin to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Nirvana,
Scientists,
Terry Callier,
One Last Wish,
Qualms,
Tom Boy,
B.T. Express,
The Misunderstood,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lyres,
The Last Poets,
Yusef Lateef,
Gil Scott Heron,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Suicide,
Rapeman,
CMW,
Eurythmics,
D'Angelo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Simply Red,
Angry Samoans,
Sex Pistols,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bob Dylan,
Shuggie Otis,
Mark Hollis,
Monks,
Barrington Levy,
The Slackers,
a-ha,
Brass Construction,
48th St. Collective,
Radio Birdman,
Electric Prunes,
The Names,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Big Daddy Kane,
Spandau Ballet,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
LL Cool J,
X-Ray Spex,
Massinfluence,
Eli Mardock,
Wolf Eyes,
The Seeds,
Alison Limerick,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeff Lynne,
Sister Nancy,
Agent Orange,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Can,
the Germs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kurtis Blow,
The Music Machine,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.