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 Czech Republic and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Jakarta.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew 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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Hot Snakes,
The Smoke,
The Gap Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
F. McDonald,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Hutcherson,
June Days,
Roxy Music,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Drexciya,
Scott Walker,
Bronski Beat,
The Busters,
Jeff Lynne,
Mo-Dettes,
The Real Kids,
Albert Ayler,
Duran Duran,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Q65,
World's Most,
The Star Department,
Arab on Radar,
Bluetip,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Saccharine Trust,
Anthony Braxton,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
cv313,
The Dead C,
Moby Grape,
Depeche Mode,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Beau Brummels,
Gregory Isaacs,
Aloha Tigers,
ABC,
Deakin,
The Litter,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Television Personalities,
Rod Modell,
Easy Going,
The Monochrome Set,
Angry Samoans,
The Last Poets,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Donny Hathaway,
ABBA,
Mr. Review,
Ornette Coleman,
Laurel Aitken,
Subhumans,
Interpol,
Soft Cell,
The Raincoats,
Boz Scaggs,
Shuggie Otis,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.