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 Malta and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kings Of Tomorrow 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Rekid,
Echospace,
Morten Harket,
Letta Mbulu,
Isaac Hayes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tubeway Army,
Bizarre Inc.,
Deadbeat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rites of Spring,
Flipper,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Harry Pussy,
Mandrill,
Gil Scott Heron,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Knickerbockers,
Ornette Coleman,
Lyres,
K-Klass,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gregory Isaacs,
Judy Mowatt,
Hoover,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Banda Bassotti,
The Remains,
Suicide,
Electric Prunes,
the Sonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Al Stewart,
Nas,
Ossler,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Slave,
Pussy Galore,
R.M.O.,
Adolescents,
Unrelated Segments,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Barracudas,
Hardrive,
Dark Day,
The Zeros,
Groovy Waters,
Chris & Cosey,
Ituana,
Metal Thangz,
Rosa Yemen,
Franke,
Funkadelic,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tommy Roe,
Young Marble Giants,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.