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 Czech Republic and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Panda Bear to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Blackbyrds,
The Pretty Things,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Matthew Halsall,
Duran Duran,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ohio Players,
Yazoo,
Ronan,
Reuben Wilson,
Judy Mowatt,
Sugar Minott,
Ornette Coleman,
Marc Almond,
World's Most,
Easy Going,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Juan Atkins,
Joey Negro,
Arab on Radar,
Lakeside,
Tres Demented,
Donald Byrd,
Loose Ends,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Crooked Eye,
The Fuzztones,
Gichy Dan,
John Lydon,
The Move,
Young Marble Giants,
Fugazi,
Schoolly D,
The Trojans,
Eli Mardock,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Slits,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scion,
Gregory Isaacs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
U.S. Maple,
Quadrant,
Con Funk Shun,
Pussy Galore,
the Sonics,
Trumans Water,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kas Product,
Agent Orange,
The Stooges,
The Real Kids,
Yusef Lateef,
The Doors,
Byron Stingily,
Bill Wells,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.