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 Panama and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Japan to the disco 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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones 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 a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Erasure,
The Moody Blues,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Associates,
Flipper,
Laurel Aitken,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Porter Ricks,
Anthony Braxton,
Trumans Water,
the Sonics,
Blancmange,
Grey Daturas,
Sixth Finger,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Victims,
The Fall,
The Detroit Cobras,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Symarip,
Quadrant,
Liliput,
Donald Byrd,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rod Modell,
Khruangbin,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Modern Lovers,
Infiniti,
Suicide,
The Human League,
Dark Day,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Cale,
DJ Sneak,
Echospace,
Fugazi,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kool Moe Dee,
Y Pants,
Crooked Eye,
Davy DMX,
Severed Heads,
The Sonics,
Curtis Mayfield,
Camouflage,
Althea and Donna,
The Music Machine,
Sight & Sound,
Graham Central Station,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wally Richardson,
Mad Mike,
This Heat,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.