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 Angola and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 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 R.M.O. to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Smog,
The Pretty Things,
Cheater Slicks,
L. Decosne,
Y Pants,
Wally Richardson,
The Moleskins,
Scrapy,
Television,
the Bar-Kays,
The Monochrome Set,
Pussy Galore,
One Last Wish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Barracudas,
Outsiders,
Symarip,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pantytec,
Hardrive,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Pop Group,
Swell Maps,
Flamin' Groovies,
Khruangbin,
Gichy Dan,
Moss Icon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Glenn Branca,
Vainqueur,
Basic Channel,
Pharoah Sanders,
Simply Red,
John Foxx,
Idris Muhammad,
ABBA,
R.M.O.,
The Saints,
Amon Düül II,
Joyce Sims,
Unrelated Segments,
The Motions,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lalann,
The Moody Blues,
Shuggie Otis,
Godley & Creme,
Aloha Tigers,
The Toasters,
Newcleus,
Dawn Penn,
Janne Schatter,
The Gap Band,
Half Japanese,
Pulsallama,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cameo,
Animal Collective,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rotary Connection,
Sparks,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.