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 Kyrgyzstan and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Letta Mbulu to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jeff Lynne,
John Cale,
Yaz,
Harpers Bizarre,
Todd Rundgren,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Khruangbin,
This Heat,
48th St. Collective,
Rakim,
Morten Harket,
KRS-One,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rekid,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang of Four,
Maleditus Sound,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kaleidoscope,
Tomorrow,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Circle Jerks,
the Association,
Slick Rick,
The Residents,
Grauzone,
Freddie Wadling,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pharoah Sanders,
Arab on Radar,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Inner City,
Quantec,
Idris Muhammad,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The J.B.'s,
Rites of Spring,
Amon Düül II,
Roxette,
Parry Music,
Nils Olav,
The Fire Engines,
Kerri Chandler,
The Modern Lovers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ponytail,
Das Ding,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Metal Thangz,
New Age Steppers,
Sister Nancy,
Minutemen,
Avey Tare,
Isaac Hayes,
Blossom Toes,
Sugar Minott,
Unwound,
Suicide,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.