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 Lesotho and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 The Grass Roots to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
The Toasters,
The Smoke,
Fatback Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Swans,
The Tremeloes,
Franke,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Skatalites,
Sun Ra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Yusef Lateef,
Quantec,
Agitation Free,
Marc Almond,
The Stooges,
Crooked Eye,
Glenn Branca,
Rhythm & Sound,
Amazonics,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Move,
Main Source,
The Zeros,
Fifty Foot Hose,
June of 44,
T.S.O.L.,
The Cramps,
Derrick May,
The Red Krayola,
Pole,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Section 25,
Alice Coltrane,
Wolf Eyes,
B.T. Express,
The Durutti Column,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Intrusion,
Brand Nubian,
Mr. Review,
Radio Birdman,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ossler,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rotary Connection,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minnie Riperton,
Wally Richardson,
Young Marble Giants,
Sound Behaviour,
Royal Trux,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quando Quango,
The Slackers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.