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 Cambodia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe 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 The Walker Brothers to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Los Fastidios,
Fela Kuti,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Mummies,
Reagan Youth,
Young Marble Giants,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bobby Byrd,
Derrick May,
Anakelly,
R.M.O.,
Sugar Minott,
David McCallum,
China Crisis,
the Slits,
Surgeon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Boredoms,
Organ,
The Move,
Kayak,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wolf Eyes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Spandau Ballet,
Dennis Brown,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Womack,
Kurtis Blow,
Amazonics,
The Martian,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sixth Finger,
Newcleus,
Rites of Spring,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dorothy Ashby,
Suburban Knight,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bill Wells,
Sandy B,
Quando Quango,
The Dirtbombs,
Monolake,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jeff Mills,
Supertramp,
Bush Tetras,
Subhumans,
Wings,
Blossom Toes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Darondo,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.