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 Turkey and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 güiro 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 Zeros to the funk 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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
The Gladiators,
X-102,
Dave Gahan,
the Human League,
Brass Construction,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Soft Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
The J.B.'s,
Tres Demented,
The Move,
Barrington Levy,
Jerry's Kids,
The Star Department,
Alice Coltrane,
Little Man,
The American Breed,
Mr. Review,
Roy Ayers,
The Toasters,
Porter Ricks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tim Buckley,
CMW,
Blake Baxter,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gabor Szabo,
Connie Case,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Swans,
The Busters,
Gang Starr,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kevin Saunderson,
K-Klass,
Gong,
Kerrie Biddell,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Stereo Dub,
Wolf Eyes,
Hardrive,
Sex Pistols,
Model 500,
The Angels of Light,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Angry Samoans,
Tubeway Army,
Roxette,
Duran Duran,
This Heat,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fluxion,
Minutemen,
Stetsasonic,
the Germs,
Juan Atkins,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.