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 Solomon Islands and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the grime 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boogie Down Productions,
The Last Poets,
Los Fastidios,
Jeff Lynne,
Hot Snakes,
Organ,
The Count Five,
John Cale,
Theoretical Girls,
Brothers Johnson,
Spandau Ballet,
The Index,
Cymande,
Johnny Osbourne,
Oneida,
X-102,
The Red Krayola,
New York Dolls,
The Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
Rufus Thomas,
Junior Murvin,
Unrelated Segments,
Big Daddy Kane,
Soft Cell,
Wings,
Ronan,
The American Breed,
Mark Hollis,
Warsaw,
Max Romeo,
Eve St. Jones,
The Moleskins,
Moebius,
Con Funk Shun,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Yellowson,
Mars,
The Monochrome Set,
The Modern Lovers,
Aaron Thompson,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gories,
Whodini,
Archie Shepp,
Sandy B,
Gregory Isaacs,
Von Mondo,
Idris Muhammad,
Pole,
Bobby Byrd,
Grauzone,
Drive Like Jehu,
B.T. Express,
David Bowie,
Brand Nubian,
Pere Ubu,
Suicide,
Wire,
Cheater Slicks,
The Wake,
The Standells,
A Certain Ratio,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.