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 Vanuatu and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Black Moon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rakim,
Duran Duran,
Maleditus Sound,
Youth Brigade,
Make Up,
The Dead C,
Thompson Twins,
The Velvet Underground,
Infiniti,
Aloha Tigers,
Lindisfarne,
The Seeds,
Qualms,
Oblivians,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobby Byrd,
Crime,
Grauzone,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Tremeloes,
Mr. Review,
Motorama,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Shoche,
Organ,
Urselle,
David McCallum,
Pulsallama,
Ornette Coleman,
John Holt,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Patti Smith,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soul II Soul,
Davy DMX,
Iggy Pop,
Quantec,
Magazine,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cal Tjader,
The Associates,
Little Man,
the Bar-Kays,
Johnny Clarke,
Porter Ricks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Smiths,
Suicide,
Hashim,
Silicon Teens,
Pole,
Skaos,
Lucky Dragons,
The Red Krayola,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Soft Cell,
Basic Channel,
Drexciya,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.