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 Vanuatu and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Gang Starr to the grunge 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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Sonics,
Bluetip,
Urselle,
Unwound,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Neu!,
The Durutti Column,
The Young Rascals,
Los Fastidios,
Massinfluence,
Inner City,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sun City Girls,
Qualms,
the Germs,
Neil Young,
Scott Walker,
Soft Machine,
AZ,
Flash Fearless,
the Fania All-Stars,
Donald Byrd,
Hot Snakes,
Q65,
Jerry's Kids,
Metal Thangz,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gun Club,
Negative Approach,
Bang On A Can,
Pussy Galore,
Barbara Tucker,
Lungfish,
Gang of Four,
Visage,
Moby Grape,
Crime,
Lucky Dragons,
Lightning Bolt,
Brick,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Flesh Eaters,
Minutemen,
Fad Gadget,
The Monks,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Knickerbockers,
Flipper,
Janne Schatter,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Velvet Underground,
World's Most,
MDC,
Banda Bassotti,
The Star Department,
The Zeros,
Rotary Connection,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Chris Corsano,
Michelle Simonal,
Sparks,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.