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 Jordan and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Boz Scaggs to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
48th St. Collective,
Sixth Finger,
The Invisible,
Nico,
the Swans,
Rites of Spring,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Standells,
Anthony Braxton,
Piero Umiliani,
EPMD,
Junior Murvin,
Fad Gadget,
The Wake,
Rosa Yemen,
Jerry's Kids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marcia Griffiths,
Glambeats Corp.,
Monks,
Archie Shepp,
Fatback Band,
Joe Smooth,
Animal Collective,
Heaven 17,
The Techniques,
Stiv Bators,
Beasts of Bourbon,
In Retrospect,
Con Funk Shun,
Wasted Youth,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Angels of Light,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pere Ubu,
Eddi Front,
Cal Tjader,
Gerry Rafferty,
Little Man,
The Five Americans,
Main Source,
Chrome,
Scientists,
D'Angelo,
Gabor Szabo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Real Kids,
The Slackers,
Bush Tetras,
Scrapy,
The Cure,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jandek,
The Motions,
Can,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cheater Slicks,
One Last Wish,
T. Rex,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.