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 Bhutan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Hasil Adkins to the funk 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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
B.T. Express,
Pierre Henry,
Lalann,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mad Mike,
Mandrill,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sugar Minott,
Marmalade,
Sarah Menescal,
Al Stewart,
FM Einheit,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sun Ra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Janne Schatter,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Music Machine,
Tubeway Army,
Iggy Pop,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
the Soft Cell,
Nik Kershaw,
The Grass Roots,
Simply Red,
Supertramp,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Drexciya,
Ultra Naté,
Das Ding,
Black Flag,
T.S.O.L.,
Lou Christie,
The Toasters,
Intrusion,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
La Düsseldorf,
Faraquet,
Johnny Clarke,
The Cramps,
Harry Pussy,
Joensuu 1685,
Jeff Mills,
Eric Copeland,
Porter Ricks,
the Slits,
Arab on Radar,
Icehouse,
ABBA,
The Gun Club,
Bauhaus,
Surgeon,
Essential Logic,
Matthew Bourne,
Visage,
Pantaleimon,
Pagans,
Banda Bassotti,
Suburban Knight,
Maurizio,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.