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 Mexico and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 H. Thieme to the rock 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 Soul II Soul. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marvin Gaye,
The Tremeloes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Last Poets,
Gabor Szabo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Guru Guru,
Franke,
New Age Steppers,
Bob Dylan,
Harry Pussy,
Spoonie Gee,
Bizarre Inc.,
Iggy Pop,
Joe Finger,
Fela Kuti,
The Fuzztones,
Gichy Dan,
Essential Logic,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Red Krayola,
Smog,
Alice Coltrane,
Don Cherry,
Zapp,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tomorrow,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David Axelrod,
Joey Negro,
KRS-One,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lakeside,
Barry Ungar,
Mark Hollis,
Camberwell Now,
Motorama,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bootsy Collins,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
DNA,
Kurtis Blow,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Radio Birdman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scrapy,
Dual Sessions,
Masters at Work,
Mary Jane Girls,
Funky Four + One,
Public Enemy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Erykah Badu,
The Neon Judgement,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Funkadelic,
cv313,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Charles Mingus,
Robert Wyatt,
The Music Machine,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.