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 United States and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Bar-Kays to the rap 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
the Sonics,
Terry Callier,
The Moleskins,
The Birthday Party,
Underground Resistance,
Jandek,
Letta Mbulu,
Monks,
Ten City,
Graham Central Station,
Mad Mike,
Jimmy McGriff,
Suburban Knight,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nick Fraelich,
One Last Wish,
Soulsonic Force,
Yellowson,
The American Breed,
Dead Boys,
Mission of Burma,
Eric B and Rakim,
Spandau Ballet,
Donald Byrd,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kenny Larkin,
The Five Americans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Blossom Toes,
Roger Hodgson,
FM Einheit,
Lee Hazlewood,
Schoolly D,
Peter & Gordon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang Starr,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cowsills,
Quantec,
Leonard Cohen,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Chris & Cosey,
Sam Rivers,
Tom Boy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gang Green,
Todd Terry,
Goldenarms,
Howard Jones,
The Barracudas,
Television Personalities,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Seeds,
the Soft Cell,
Slick Rick,
MC5,
The Misunderstood,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Chrome,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.