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 Uzbekistan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 sitar 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 Bobby Womack to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
E-Dancer,
Joyce Sims,
Rotary Connection,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bill Wells,
Rapeman,
Pole,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Remains,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Circle Jerks,
Loose Ends,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Q and Not U,
Camberwell Now,
Zapp,
The Wake,
Pussy Galore,
Terry Callier,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Wings,
The Dead C,
Lindisfarne,
Gil Scott Heron,
Infiniti,
The Martian,
Talk Talk,
Rosa Yemen,
The Music Machine,
Roy Ayers,
Skriet,
Roxy Music,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mo-Dettes,
Alison Limerick,
Lungfish,
Mandrill,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Matthew Halsall,
The Velvet Underground,
The Toasters,
Gichy Dan,
Glenn Branca,
Yaz,
Symarip,
PIL,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Seeds,
Aswad,
Jeff Lynne,
Harry Pussy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marcia Griffiths,
X-Ray Spex,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.