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 Rwanda and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 guitar 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
The Searchers,
Pierre Henry,
Harmonia,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Doors,
Fatback Band,
Todd Rundgren,
Scrapy,
Index,
Fad Gadget,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
This Heat,
The Angels of Light,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Hasil Adkins,
Parry Music,
Fugazi,
Mr. Review,
Livin' Joy,
Spandau Ballet,
Traffic Nightmare,
Talk Talk,
Ossler,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fugs,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Motions,
Grauzone,
Joy Division,
Loose Ends,
John Foxx,
Andrew Hill,
Lindisfarne,
Khruangbin,
Easy Going,
Tim Buckley,
Circle Jerks,
Duran Duran,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
In Retrospect,
ABBA,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Last Poets,
The Names,
The Saints,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
48th St. Collective,
Echospace,
Whodini,
The Blackbyrds,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mandrill,
Yellowson,
Black Moon,
Bad Manners,
Warsaw,
Zero Boys,
Sex Pistols,
The Birthday Party,
U.S. Maple,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.