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 Lithuania and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Wally Richardson to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Max Romeo,
Aswad,
The J.B.'s,
Bush Tetras,
The Victims,
the Fania All-Stars,
K-Klass,
Rufus Thomas,
The Mojo Men,
Tubeway Army,
Faraquet,
R.M.O.,
Accadde A,
Josef K,
The American Breed,
Adolescents,
The Blues Magoos,
The Sound,
Graham Central Station,
Idris Muhammad,
Maurizio,
The Searchers,
Heaven 17,
Schoolly D,
Wire,
Shoche,
Bang On A Can,
Sällskapet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lindisfarne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sonic Youth,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ken Boothe,
Public Enemy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Interpol,
Al Stewart,
Chris & Cosey,
David Bowie,
Grey Daturas,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bronski Beat,
Jerry's Kids,
Kas Product,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fall,
Bob Dylan,
Black Flag,
Lungfish,
Scott Walker,
Camberwell Now,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rekid,
Depeche Mode,
DJ Style,
cv313,
The Golliwogs,
Con Funk Shun,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.