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 Korea North and from Seoul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Slick Rick to the jazz 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Ultra Naté,
Gong,
Franke,
The Toasters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eric Copeland,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Index,
Hardrive,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Eve St. Jones,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tom Boy,
Deadbeat,
The Litter,
Magma,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Skatalites,
Erasure,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lou Reed,
Skarface,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
FM Einheit,
K-Klass,
Organ,
The Mummies,
Mad Mike,
Erykah Badu,
Shuggie Otis,
Blossom Toes,
Cluster,
kango's stein massive,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pulsallama,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fire Engines,
Fela Kuti,
The Pretty Things,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Livin' Joy,
Can,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Robert Görl,
Tres Demented,
Jesper Dahlback,
Infiniti,
Jeff Mills,
Reagan Youth,
The Saints,
Freddie Wadling,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mr. Review,
The Fugs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.