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 Bolivia and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 U.S. Maple 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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Cymande,
The Pop Group,
Black Sheep,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Yellowson,
Massinfluence,
The Cure,
Symarip,
MC5,
Scientists,
Roy Ayers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Supertramp,
Suicide,
the Association,
Black Bananas,
Zapp,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Germs,
Gabor Szabo,
The Dead C,
Cheater Slicks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Motions,
The Busters,
Yazoo,
Silicon Teens,
DJ Sneak,
Neil Young,
The Index,
Los Fastidios,
DNA,
Sixth Finger,
Arcadia,
The Happenings,
A Certain Ratio,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Second Layer,
CMW,
Motorama,
The New Christs,
Aswad,
Colin Newman,
The Real Kids,
Robert Hood,
Swell Maps,
The Doobie Brothers,
H. Thieme,
The Smiths,
The Modern Lovers,
Tropical Tobacco,
FM Einheit,
Von Mondo,
The Invisible,
John Holt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
T. Rex,
Moby Grape,
Con Funk Shun,
Chrome,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania 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.