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 Botswana and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 David Bowie 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 Flamin' Groovies to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Jimmy McGriff,
Los Fastidios,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Move,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gang Green,
Barclay James Harvest,
Metal Thangz,
Black Sheep,
Idris Muhammad,
The Divine Comedy,
Surgeon,
Youth Brigade,
The Grass Roots,
Mr. Review,
The Vogues,
Erasure,
China Crisis,
Chris & Cosey,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kaleidoscope,
Donald Byrd,
John Lydon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Unrelated Segments,
L. Decosne,
Au Pairs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eden Ahbez,
Kerrie Biddell,
Y Pants,
Q65,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ken Boothe,
Robert Wyatt,
Colin Newman,
Lalann,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Warren Ellis,
Kenny Larkin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Camberwell Now,
Lungfish,
Pere Ubu,
Boz Scaggs,
John Coltrane,
Eric B and Rakim,
Anakelly,
Sam Rivers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The American Breed,
Throbbing Gristle,
Clear Light,
John Cale,
The Doobie Brothers,
Vladislav Delay,
Ronnie Foster,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.