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 Colombia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Pharoah Sanders to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Tears for Fears,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Electric Prunes,
Fugazi,
The Saints,
The Fall,
Tomorrow,
Thompson Twins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Judy Mowatt,
The Walker Brothers,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Last Poets,
the Slits,
JFA,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Residents,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Busters,
Gang Green,
Shoche,
The American Breed,
Don Cherry,
R.M.O.,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Victims,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Deepchord,
Cymande,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Knickerbockers,
Yazoo,
Steve Hackett,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultra Naté,
Sparks,
Tubeway Army,
Funkadelic,
Wings,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Joyce Sims,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Malaria!,
Adolescents,
DJ Style,
Flipper,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gong,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Public Enemy,
Cybotron,
OOIOO,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Q and Not U,
The Music Machine,
Arab on Radar,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joe Finger,
John Cale,
The Tremeloes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.