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 Nicaragua and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba 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 Reuben Wilson to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
CMW,
The Detroit Cobras,
K-Klass,
Khruangbin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Amon Düül II,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Warren Ellis,
Don Cherry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Moss Icon,
Janne Schatter,
Hoover,
Yazoo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Danielle Patucci,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
PIL,
The Knickerbockers,
Procol Harum,
Gang Green,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Judy Mowatt,
Mad Mike,
Lindisfarne,
Bill Wells,
Eric Dolphy,
Icehouse,
The Blues Magoos,
Lakeside,
The Smoke,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Max Romeo,
The Black Dice,
T.S.O.L.,
Livin' Joy,
Connie Case,
D'Angelo,
The Angels of Light,
The Alarm Clocks,
H. Thieme,
The Cure,
Bobby Womack,
Leonard Cohen,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Move,
Eric B and Rakim,
FM Einheit,
June Days,
Warsaw,
Graham Central Station,
Sister Nancy,
Darondo,
Zapp,
Rakim,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rufus Thomas,
Donny Hathaway,
Morten Harket,
Scratch Acid,
Jeff Mills,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.