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 Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 New Age Steppers to the punk 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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
The Gap Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Yusef Lateef,
These Immortal Souls,
KRS-One,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pierre Henry,
Fela Kuti,
the Slits,
Bobby Byrd,
The Happenings,
R.M.O.,
Johnny Clarke,
Funkadelic,
Organ,
Freddie Wadling,
Roger Hodgson,
Pantytec,
The Fortunes,
Cal Tjader,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
CMW,
Ornette Coleman,
Neu!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
X-101,
Kevin Saunderson,
DJ Sneak,
The Angels of Light,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Procol Harum,
Supertramp,
Kenny Larkin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Monks,
Siglo XX,
The Sound,
Byron Stingily,
Little Man,
Kerri Chandler,
F. McDonald,
Inner City,
Accadde A,
Rod Modell,
Television Personalities,
The Five Americans,
Mission of Burma,
Ken Boothe,
Lakeside,
E-Dancer,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ohio Players,
Jandek,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gong,
Clear Light,
Spoonie Gee,
Warsaw,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.