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 Uzbekistan and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Electric Prunes,
Agitation Free,
Boogie Down Productions,
Liliput,
Q65,
Inner City,
Judy Mowatt,
Public Image Ltd.,
Althea and Donna,
Byron Stingily,
The Mojo Men,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bluetip,
H. Thieme,
Maleditus Sound,
Fatback Band,
Quadrant,
Kas Product,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ludus,
Country Teasers,
a-ha,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Slick Rick,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Sheep,
Traffic Nightmare,
Barry Ungar,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Young Rascals,
Excepter,
Livin' Joy,
Faraquet,
Yazoo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harmonia,
Hashim,
Brass Construction,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hasil Adkins,
Charles Mingus,
Marc Almond,
Crispian St. Peters,
DNA,
Parry Music,
The Blackbyrds,
Oneida,
10cc,
the Swans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Erykah Badu,
James White and The Blacks,
Lightning Bolt,
The Invisible,
Ituana,
Man Parrish,
Ossler,
Tim Buckley,
The Move,
The Walker Brothers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Deakin,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.