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 Ghana and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kaleidoscope to the jazz 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Mars,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bill Near,
The Misunderstood,
Ohio Players,
Scientists,
Clear Light,
Con Funk Shun,
Vladislav Delay,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Howard Jones,
Dorothy Ashby,
Funkadelic,
Desert Stars,
Pantaleimon,
The Last Poets,
Visage,
10cc,
The Grass Roots,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Symarip,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sixth Finger,
Gerry Rafferty,
Janne Schatter,
Scan 7,
The Motions,
Dawn Penn,
Magazine,
Stereo Dub,
John Cale,
Theoretical Girls,
Bluetip,
Bobby Byrd,
Robert Görl,
Aural Exciters,
Mission of Burma,
John Coltrane,
Rapeman,
Aloha Tigers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Outsiders,
Dual Sessions,
New York Dolls,
Los Fastidios,
the Slits,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joe Finger,
Alton Ellis,
Jacob Miller,
Andrew Hill,
Hoover,
Supertramp,
Skaos,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bad Manners,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.