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 El Salvador and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ 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 Minnie Riperton to the grime 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood 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 a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics 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?
Nation of Ulysses,
Soul II Soul,
Robert Hood,
Quando Quango,
Althea and Donna,
Colin Newman,
The Mummies,
Slave,
Bill Wells,
The Walker Brothers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Anthony Braxton,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jeff Lynne,
The Raincoats,
Harmonia,
Funkadelic,
Country Teasers,
Albert Ayler,
Traffic Nightmare,
Alice Coltrane,
Dorothy Ashby,
Japan,
June of 44,
The Sonics,
Rufus Thomas,
Siglo XX,
Sarah Menescal,
Can,
Tomorrow,
Scott Walker,
Model 500,
Eli Mardock,
Idris Muhammad,
the Normal,
Mr. Review,
Stiv Bators,
The Selecter,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Outsiders,
Jacob Miller,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crime,
Spoonie Gee,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Skaos,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Yaz,
The Barracudas,
Harpers Bizarre,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ludus,
New York Dolls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jimmy McGriff,
Youth Brigade,
Guru Guru,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.