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 Tonga and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 808 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 Selecter to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Clear Light,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Evens,
X-Ray Spex,
Drive Like Jehu,
Harry Pussy,
Metal Thangz,
Connie Case,
cv313,
Mission of Burma,
Can,
Prince Buster,
Simply Red,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mo-Dettes,
Yaz,
The New Christs,
Boredoms,
48th St. Collective,
Cheater Slicks,
Index,
Rotary Connection,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Cramps,
Radiohead,
The Doobie Brothers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Slackers,
Liliput,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Cale,
ABC,
Porter Ricks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
LL Cool J,
Joe Smooth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Harpers Bizarre,
EPMD,
Thee Headcoats,
Donny Hathaway,
Altered Images,
Second Layer,
The Red Krayola,
Faraquet,
The Kinks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rakim,
Morten Harket,
Eric B and Rakim,
Zapp,
Swell Maps,
Darondo,
Bill Near,
Talk Talk,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.