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 Benin and from Beijing.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Tremeloes to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dark Day,
Brass Construction,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Roger Hodgson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Evens,
Scott Walker,
Excepter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Slick Rick,
John Coltrane,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Slits,
The Martian,
The Residents,
Ronnie Foster,
Lebanon Hanover,
The American Breed,
Lalann,
Bush Tetras,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Cymande,
Fela Kuti,
Gang Starr,
Bobby Womack,
Barbara Tucker,
Aswad,
The Black Dice,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pole,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fad Gadget,
the Soft Cell,
Oblivians,
Mark Hollis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Young Marble Giants,
Maleditus Sound,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Motions,
Black Flag,
Pere Ubu,
PIL,
The Busters,
Outsiders,
Graham Central Station,
Gang of Four,
8 Eyed Spy,
Angry Samoans,
Loose Ends,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Chrome,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Radiohead,
Ludus,
Desert Stars,
Wire,
Ultra Naté,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.