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 Cameroon and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gladiators to the grime 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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
Scan 7,
Rosa Yemen,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scion,
Absolute Body Control,
Junior Murvin,
Darondo,
Stereo Dub,
Glambeats Corp.,
Monolake,
June of 44,
Eric B and Rakim,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ronnie Foster,
Scientists,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Von Mondo,
Hardrive,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fela Kuti,
The Real Kids,
The Young Rascals,
the Germs,
The Sound,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Peter and Kerry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Blancmange,
The Red Krayola,
Fatback Band,
Jacques Brel,
DJ Sneak,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Anthony Braxton,
The Tremeloes,
Black Bananas,
The Raincoats,
Circle Jerks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Barracudas,
Vladislav Delay,
Dark Day,
Nick Fraelich,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Moleskins,
Jandek,
Motorama,
ABC,
The Cramps,
Japan,
The American Breed,
Terry Callier,
Yusef Lateef,
Cameo,
Warren Ellis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Warsaw,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.