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 Venezuela and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the güiro 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 Kayak 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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Wire,
In Retrospect,
The Dave Clark Five,
Quadrant,
Can,
Tears for Fears,
John Coltrane,
John Holt,
Sight & Sound,
Stereo Dub,
Todd Rundgren,
Crispy Ambulance,
Toni Rubio,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Simply Red,
The Sound,
The Litter,
The Tremeloes,
The Mojo Men,
The Monks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pet Shop Boys,
Prince Buster,
Television,
Eden Ahbez,
David Axelrod,
E-Dancer,
Funkadelic,
Monolake,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dual Sessions,
Minnie Riperton,
Erasure,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Moon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Brick,
The Wake,
Ultra Naté,
Brothers Johnson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kenny Larkin,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Real Kids,
John Cale,
Kaleidoscope,
Aswad,
Avey Tare,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Martian,
Radiohead,
Moebius,
Lightning Bolt,
Talk Talk,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nils Olav,
Unwound,
The Human League,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.