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 Maldives and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Reuben Wilson to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Colin Newman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
MC5,
Robert Wyatt,
Vladislav Delay,
Vainqueur,
Mark Hollis,
Albert Ayler,
Dead Boys,
This Heat,
Ultra Naté,
CMW,
U.S. Maple,
Deakin,
The Knickerbockers,
Whodini,
Absolute Body Control,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marmalade,
Outsiders,
Wolf Eyes,
Patti Smith,
Moebius,
DJ Sneak,
Pussy Galore,
Robert Görl,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Monochrome Set,
The United States of America,
Gang Green,
cv313,
Subhumans,
Excepter,
New York Dolls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
New Order,
Lightning Bolt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Arab on Radar,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Aswad,
Grandmaster Flash,
Avey Tare,
Bizarre Inc.,
Graham Central Station,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Black Bananas,
The Walker Brothers,
Henry Cow,
Blossom Toes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Piero Umiliani,
Fugazi,
Zero Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Foxx,
K-Klass,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.