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 Burkina and from New York.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Portland.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Zeros to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Radiopuhelimet,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bobby Womack,
Byron Stingily,
Kerri Chandler,
Alphaville,
Robert Görl,
Bobby Byrd,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rapeman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Los Fastidios,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ituana,
The Offenders,
Carl Craig,
Gerry Rafferty,
Faust,
Buzzcocks,
Chris Corsano,
Eurythmics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The American Breed,
Graham Central Station,
Supertramp,
The Smiths,
Ice-T,
K-Klass,
Inner City,
the Association,
The Beau Brummels,
Robert Hood,
Little Man,
The Busters,
Bobby Sherman,
Rekid,
Lindisfarne,
Nirvana,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Barclay James Harvest,
ABBA,
MC5,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Franke,
Mad Mike,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oblivians,
Minny Pops,
Yazoo,
Skarface,
Sparks,
Infiniti,
Unrelated Segments,
the Human League,
the Sonics,
Radio Birdman,
Quantec,
Boredoms,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.