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 Lithuania and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Portland.
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 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 ABBA to the dance 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gichy Dan,
Procol Harum,
Little Man,
The Fugs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Johnny Clarke,
MC5,
The Busters,
Soul II Soul,
Camouflage,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Lydon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Alton Ellis,
Terry Callier,
Rapeman,
Main Source,
Interpol,
Pere Ubu,
Black Flag,
Camberwell Now,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gong,
Todd Terry,
Marmalade,
Gang of Four,
Scan 7,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brand Nubian,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Mandrill,
Matthew Halsall,
Bush Tetras,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rites of Spring,
Rufus Thomas,
Blossom Toes,
Jacob Miller,
Charles Mingus,
Mars,
Maleditus Sound,
Technova,
Sun Ra,
Al Stewart,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Alphaville,
The Martian,
Yazoo,
Lou Christie,
Saccharine Trust,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Minor Threat,
Donald Byrd,
Quadrant,
Accadde A,
Derrick May,
Radio Birdman,
A Certain Ratio,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.