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 Jamaica and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 K-Klass to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a L. Decosne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
The Black Dice,
Chrome,
Aswad,
Arthur Verocai,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jesper Dahlback,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Smoke,
Harry Pussy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Technova,
Black Flag,
The Count Five,
Eric Copeland,
Nation of Ulysses,
H. Thieme,
Donny Hathaway,
Shoche,
John Coltrane,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hashim,
Stereo Dub,
The Red Krayola,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Doors,
Organ,
The Happenings,
Cameo,
Gichy Dan,
Minnie Riperton,
Mr. Review,
Suicide,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sound Behaviour,
Yusef Lateef,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Last Poets,
KRS-One,
Robert Hood,
Connie Case,
Byron Stingily,
Jeff Lynne,
Pere Ubu,
Marmalade,
Intrusion,
The Cramps,
Rekid,
The Golliwogs,
The Evens,
Goldenarms,
The Modern Lovers,
Judy Mowatt,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Selecter,
Arcadia,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobby Byrd,
Procol Harum,
Skriet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.