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 Eritrea and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Wally Richardson to the crunk 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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pylon,
The Trojans,
Average White Band,
Livin' Joy,
Rufus Thomas,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Holt,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Banda Bassotti,
Pantaleimon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lou Christie,
Swell Maps,
Spandau Ballet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mission of Burma,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Prince Buster,
Kool Moe Dee,
Adolescents,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
B.T. Express,
Gong,
The Remains,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fire Engines,
Agitation Free,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joe Smooth,
Deadbeat,
Andrew Hill,
Lou Reed,
Idris Muhammad,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ten City,
The Smiths,
Eddi Front,
The Shadows of Knight,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Country Teasers,
Tommy Roe,
Kaleidoscope,
Wally Richardson,
Metal Thangz,
Bobby Womack,
Iggy Pop,
John Lydon,
U.S. Maple,
Subhumans,
Bizarre Inc.,
Brand Nubian,
the Slits,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bluetip,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Con Funk Shun,
Scott Walker,
Rapeman,
Traffic Nightmare,
Model 500,
The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor, The Royal Family And The Poor.
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.