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 Egypt and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 linndrum 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 Rakim to the jazz 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Make Up,
Lightning Bolt,
Hoover,
Livin' Joy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobby Byrd,
The Smoke,
The Dead C,
Newcleus,
Motorama,
Gang Gang Dance,
Hardrive,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Inner City,
Agitation Free,
The Sonics,
Tim Buckley,
Cybotron,
Mission of Burma,
The Gap Band,
Chris Corsano,
Rites of Spring,
Fugazi,
Monolake,
Mark Hollis,
Maleditus Sound,
Ten City,
Procol Harum,
Sonny Sharrock,
Can,
Nik Kershaw,
Tom Boy,
Index,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Nirvana,
Accadde A,
Faraquet,
Lungfish,
Matthew Bourne,
Laurel Aitken,
Crispian St. Peters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fluxion,
Massinfluence,
Bootsy Collins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cymande,
Delon & Dalcan,
Camouflage,
Public Enemy,
Kayak,
Peter and Kerry,
Junior Murvin,
The Raincoats,
Sugar Minott,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.