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 Turkmenistan and from Portland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Ohio Players to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Marine Girls,
Andrew Hill,
Girls At Our Best!,
Shuggie Otis,
Soulsonic Force,
Maleditus Sound,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
James White and The Blacks,
Rod Modell,
Funkadelic,
Brass Construction,
Porter Ricks,
Lyres,
Technova,
Warsaw,
Agitation Free,
Pylon,
The Leaves,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Moon,
The Invisible,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lalo Schifrin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Tremeloes,
Peter & Gordon,
Sister Nancy,
T.S.O.L.,
Moby Grape,
Marc Almond,
Second Layer,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Searchers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Radiohead,
The Knickerbockers,
Fear,
Gong,
Robert Görl,
Sun Ra,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Barrington Levy,
Swans,
Bill Near,
Pole,
Buzzcocks,
Flipper,
Marvin Gaye,
Public Enemy,
Q and Not U,
D'Angelo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Babytalk,
The Monochrome Set,
Youth Brigade,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Sherman,
Pierre Henry,
Ornette Coleman,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.