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 Jordan and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Livin' Joy to the disco 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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Bobby Byrd,
The Techniques,
Davy DMX,
Man Eating Sloth,
Section 25,
Black Bananas,
ABC,
The Searchers,
Slick Rick,
Ice-T,
Stereo Dub,
Gang Green,
Minny Pops,
Blake Baxter,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
DNA,
Tim Buckley,
Quando Quango,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gladiators,
Talk Talk,
Audionom,
Clear Light,
Liliput,
Janne Schatter,
The Stooges,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Duran Duran,
The Mojo Men,
Organ,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Skatalites,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bobby Womack,
Brand Nubian,
Reuben Wilson,
Con Funk Shun,
Rites of Spring,
Little Man,
Rosa Yemen,
Pylon,
The Star Department,
The Birthday Party,
Newcleus,
Black Sheep,
D'Angelo,
Mad Mike,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yazoo,
The Fugs,
Heaven 17,
Ohio Players,
The Kinks,
These Immortal Souls,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mantronix,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.