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 Mexico and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the electroclash 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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Colin Newman,
Simply Red,
Mad Mike,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Reagan Youth,
Mars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Don Cherry,
Idris Muhammad,
Severed Heads,
Basic Channel,
Ronan,
ABBA,
Das Ding,
Skriet,
Godley & Creme,
Bobby Byrd,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fatback Band,
The Slackers,
Pole,
Ornette Coleman,
DJ Style,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Hasil Adkins,
Pussy Galore,
Todd Terry,
Marc Almond,
John Cale,
Joyce Sims,
The Slits,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tres Demented,
Nick Fraelich,
Alphaville,
Albert Ayler,
Bluetip,
Siglo XX,
Warren Ellis,
CMW,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobby Sherman,
Symarip,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Associates,
Connie Case,
Television Personalities,
B.T. Express,
The Alarm Clocks,
Franke,
MC5,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Spoonie Gee,
The Sisters of Mercy,
F. McDonald,
Scan 7,
Swans,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.