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 Barbados and from Hong Kong.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Grey Daturas,
DJ Sneak,
Suicide,
New Age Steppers,
Rakim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Alison Limerick,
The Kinks,
Basic Channel,
K-Klass,
Scott Walker,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The J.B.'s,
Q65,
Cameo,
Sun Ra,
The Electric Prunes,
Qualms,
Nas,
Patti Smith,
The Gap Band,
Siglo XX,
Black Pus,
Das Ding,
Brick,
Eve St. Jones,
Aural Exciters,
Maleditus Sound,
Mr. Review,
Al Stewart,
The New Christs,
The Red Krayola,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Names,
Skaos,
UT,
Eric B and Rakim,
Deakin,
The Monks,
Davy DMX,
Tears for Fears,
Ice-T,
8 Eyed Spy,
Byron Stingily,
Quantec,
Camberwell Now,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kaleidoscope,
The United States of America,
The Leaves,
Gang Gang Dance,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Mojo Men,
The Fortunes,
The Cowsills,
The Shadows of Knight,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Index,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.