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 Honduras and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Cymande to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
The Music Machine,
Gang Gang Dance,
Metal Thangz,
Tim Buckley,
The Flesh Eaters,
This Heat,
Lungfish,
Darondo,
Ituana,
Gichy Dan,
Con Funk Shun,
Pole,
Kaleidoscope,
Drexciya,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
DJ Sneak,
Depeche Mode,
K-Klass,
Terrestrial Tones,
Spoonie Gee,
Black Pus,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roxette,
Audionom,
Circle Jerks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Bananas,
Fluxion,
Hashim,
Skaos,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Johnny Osbourne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Hasil Adkins,
The Last Poets,
Piero Umiliani,
Altered Images,
Alison Limerick,
Lower 48,
Sarah Menescal,
Kenny Larkin,
Kurtis Blow,
Ossler,
The Divine Comedy,
Flash Fearless,
Bill Wells,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gil Scott Heron,
Slick Rick,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Crash Course in Science,
The Gun Club,
The Angels of Light,
Echospace,
Derrick May,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tomorrow,
Lightning Bolt,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.