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 United States and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Pharoah Sanders to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nik Kershaw,
Con Funk Shun,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sun Ra,
Absolute Body Control,
Chrome,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Infiniti,
Skriet,
The Trojans,
Bang On A Can,
the Association,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fela Kuti,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Associates,
The Index,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Standells,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pylon,
Fluxion,
Underground Resistance,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Procol Harum,
Pantytec,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Guru Guru,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eli Mardock,
Rotary Connection,
David McCallum,
Franke,
Panda Bear,
Scientists,
Wasted Youth,
Kayak,
The Fugs,
the Human League,
Ultra Naté,
New Order,
Flipper,
Byron Stingily,
Drexciya,
Average White Band,
Jandek,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Dirtbombs,
Matthew Halsall,
H. Thieme,
Kurtis Blow,
Tubeway Army,
Minutemen,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.