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 Ghana and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Knickerbockers to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Dawn Penn,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gastr Del Sol,
Khruangbin,
Lucky Dragons,
Parry Music,
The Last Poets,
Surgeon,
Ituana,
Spandau Ballet,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tim Buckley,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Main Source,
Siglo XX,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tubeway Army,
The Dead C,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Trojans,
Grauzone,
Sarah Menescal,
Symarip,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Pretty Things,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Move,
Eric B and Rakim,
In Retrospect,
Absolute Body Control,
R.M.O.,
Sexual Harrassment,
Blossom Toes,
Oneida,
Dave Gahan,
Flash Fearless,
Mad Mike,
The Black Dice,
Letta Mbulu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Das Ding,
Faust,
These Immortal Souls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
L. Decosne,
Aural Exciters,
Amon Düül,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Byron Stingily,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grey Daturas,
Eurythmics,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Human League,
Terrestrial Tones,
Livin' Joy,
cv313,
Barbara Tucker,
James White and The Blacks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.