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 Brazil and from New York.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Red Krayola to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Section 25 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
The Last Poets,
Pantaleimon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gastr Del Sol,
Franke,
Monolake,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sugar Minott,
Warren Ellis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Banda Bassotti,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Big Daddy Kane,
David Axelrod,
Trumans Water,
The Divine Comedy,
Fat Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Neu!,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Lower 48,
Bauhaus,
Scott Walker,
The Mummies,
The Smoke,
The American Breed,
Arcadia,
The Buckinghams,
The Saints,
48th St. Collective,
The Shadows of Knight,
Vainqueur,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dawn Penn,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Bar-Kays,
Bill Near,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Hashim,
Todd Terry,
kango's stein massive,
Godley & Creme,
Zero Boys,
The Durutti Column,
Harmonia,
Terry Callier,
the Association,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kenny Larkin,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kerri Chandler,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
CMW,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bob Dylan,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.