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 Angola and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Madrid.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Doobie Brothers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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 Pus,
Gang of Four,
The Divine Comedy,
Sex Pistols,
Faust,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Slits,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minnie Riperton,
Amazonics,
Rufus Thomas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Blackbyrds,
Kevin Saunderson,
Magazine,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Misunderstood,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bush Tetras,
Todd Terry,
JFA,
Pole,
Michelle Simonal,
The Barracudas,
Eddi Front,
Kaleidoscope,
Supertramp,
OOIOO,
the Swans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Grey Daturas,
Rod Modell,
The Buckinghams,
Hot Snakes,
Eric Copeland,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Amon Düül II,
Clear Light,
World's Most,
The Cure,
Public Enemy,
The Electric Prunes,
Wally Richardson,
Khruangbin,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pere Ubu,
Bobby Byrd,
Radio Birdman,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kenny Larkin,
Cal Tjader,
Delta 5,
Lungfish,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sparks,
Aswad,
Warsaw,
D'Angelo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.