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 Belarus and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Crispy Ambulance to the rock 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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Graham Central Station,
Brick,
DJ Style,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Franke,
Scratch Acid,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lyres,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
T. Rex,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Monolake,
Anthony Braxton,
Procol Harum,
Gabor Szabo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Howard Jones,
Hot Snakes,
Cal Tjader,
Fat Boys,
Mantronix,
The Raincoats,
Make Up,
Arcadia,
Bad Manners,
Roxy Music,
Rekid,
Bill Wells,
Underground Resistance,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fad Gadget,
Arab on Radar,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tres Demented,
Charles Mingus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Animal Collective,
Cecil Taylor,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
This Heat,
The Star Department,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jerry's Kids,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fall,
Spandau Ballet,
Country Teasers,
Pylon,
David Bowie,
T.S.O.L.,
Camouflage,
Lakeside,
R.M.O.,
Interpol,
Gregory Isaacs,
The American Breed,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.