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 Niger and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb 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 Joe Smooth 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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon 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?
Oneida,
Smog,
Soul II Soul,
Archie Shepp,
Circle Jerks,
the Swans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
DJ Sneak,
U.S. Maple,
the Sonics,
Tom Boy,
The Kinks,
Rufus Thomas,
Underground Resistance,
FM Einheit,
Camberwell Now,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pylon,
The Last Poets,
Joyce Sims,
Frankie Knuckles,
Letta Mbulu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Glambeats Corp.,
Quantec,
Mad Mike,
Loose Ends,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Excepter,
Howard Jones,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Barrington Levy,
Stockholm Monsters,
DNA,
Bill Wells,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Todd Rundgren,
Blake Baxter,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Raincoats,
Sällskapet,
Ponytail,
Amon Düül,
Minutemen,
Dawn Penn,
Joey Negro,
Cal Tjader,
The Gun Club,
Yaz,
Crispy Ambulance,
Magma,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cybotron,
The Durutti Column,
MC5,
Boogie Down Productions,
Scion,
Andrew Hill,
The Moleskins,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.