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 Guatemala and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Michael McDonald 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 The Vogues to the jazz 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 the Swans. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Absolute Body Control,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dave Gahan,
Negative Approach,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Golliwogs,
John Lydon,
Man Parrish,
Roxy Music,
Ornette Coleman,
Tom Boy,
Bauhaus,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Womack,
Brick,
Minny Pops,
The Happenings,
In Retrospect,
cv313,
Todd Terry,
Al Stewart,
Talk Talk,
The Sonics,
Motorama,
Wire,
Suburban Knight,
New Age Steppers,
Thee Headcoats,
Graham Central Station,
The Associates,
Deadbeat,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Normal,
Dark Day,
OOIOO,
Archie Shepp,
Tears for Fears,
Stetsasonic,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alison Limerick,
Babytalk,
The Index,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sam Rivers,
Niagra,
Cheater Slicks,
The Skatalites,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Aswad,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Cowsills,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Dead C,
X-102,
Masters at Work,
Aaron Thompson,
Sex Pistols,
the Soft Cell,
Fat Boys,
Q and Not U,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.