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 Eritrea and from Lagos.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Cymande 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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Duran Duran,
Subhumans,
Arcadia,
Sex Pistols,
The Star Department,
Minnie Riperton,
Unwound,
Crooked Eye,
the Soft Cell,
Index,
Jandek,
Marvin Gaye,
Kerrie Biddell,
Parry Music,
Todd Terry,
The Saints,
Eric Dolphy,
Grey Daturas,
Scrapy,
Icehouse,
Yellowson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Aloha Tigers,
The Toasters,
Ossler,
Harry Pussy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Happenings,
Leonard Cohen,
Kaleidoscope,
Minutemen,
Rufus Thomas,
Barry Ungar,
Amon Düül,
Spandau Ballet,
Stetsasonic,
Stereo Dub,
Skaos,
The Raincoats,
Deepchord,
Tom Boy,
Alice Coltrane,
Glambeats Corp.,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sun City Girls,
John Holt,
Erykah Badu,
Alton Ellis,
Dave Gahan,
Desert Stars,
Suicide,
ABC,
Bang On A Can,
Chrome,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Associates,
Byron Stingily,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.