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 Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Blues Magoos to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Scan 7,
Section 25,
The Mummies,
The Fire Engines,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Cramps,
The Residents,
Lakeside,
Mandrill,
Clear Light,
Nas,
Glambeats Corp.,
Glenn Branca,
Mars,
Monks,
Sparks,
Dual Sessions,
Wolf Eyes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Flamin' Groovies,
JFA,
Skaos,
Aural Exciters,
Jeru the Damaja,
Magma,
The Velvet Underground,
Erasure,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Beau Brummels,
Oneida,
Crooked Eye,
La Düsseldorf,
Agitation Free,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The American Breed,
Crispy Ambulance,
Circle Jerks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Swans,
Angry Samoans,
Saccharine Trust,
Ohio Players,
The Move,
X-Ray Spex,
The Index,
Lucky Dragons,
Black Bananas,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Surgeon,
The Dead C,
Tears for Fears,
Slick Rick,
Junior Murvin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Con Funk Shun,
Negative Approach,
Dawn Penn,
Nils Olav,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.