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 Korea North and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 güiro 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 The Gun Club to the crunk 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Danielle Patucci,
Suburban Knight,
Marshall Jefferson,
L. Decosne,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mantronix,
Trumans Water,
Clear Light,
Mad Mike,
The Selecter,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Harry Pussy,
Dead Boys,
One Last Wish,
New York Dolls,
DJ Style,
The Index,
Half Japanese,
Fugazi,
Cal Tjader,
Zapp,
Eric Dolphy,
Don Cherry,
Kurtis Blow,
The Angels of Light,
the Soft Cell,
Al Stewart,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Accadde A,
Rod Modell,
Delon & Dalcan,
Wasted Youth,
Porter Ricks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Television,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dead C,
10cc,
Malaria!,
Davy DMX,
Derrick May,
Derrick Morgan,
K-Klass,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Youth Brigade,
cv313,
Minnie Riperton,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Invisible,
June of 44,
Tomorrow,
Nico,
the Association,
48th St. Collective,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pet Shop Boys,
Brothers Johnson,
Ohio Players,
Magma,
Shoche,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.