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 Greece and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 arpeggiator 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 Arthur Verocai to the dance 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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Marvin Gaye,
Symarip,
The Index,
DNA,
Jacques Brel,
Kevin Saunderson,
Inner City,
Dave Gahan,
The Trojans,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Can,
Arthur Verocai,
Niagra,
Chrome,
Todd Rundgren,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Happenings,
T.S.O.L.,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Blackbyrds,
Metal Thangz,
Ultimate Spinach,
Chris & Cosey,
Monolake,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cymande,
Pole,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Quantec,
John Holt,
L. Decosne,
Accadde A,
Ken Boothe,
Skaos,
Pierre Henry,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mantronix,
Glambeats Corp.,
Slave,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Derrick Morgan,
Dark Day,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nils Olav,
The Doobie Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kerrie Biddell,
Angry Samoans,
The Five Americans,
These Immortal Souls,
Marc Almond,
Malaria!,
Arab on Radar,
Robert Wyatt,
Cheater Slicks,
Minutemen,
Slick Rick,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Carl Craig,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.