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 Bolivia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manila.
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 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 Lalo Schifrin to the jazz 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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
ABBA,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Motorama,
Nils Olav,
Deepchord,
Deakin,
The Velvet Underground,
Guru Guru,
Eve St. Jones,
U.S. Maple,
Harry Pussy,
Angry Samoans,
Black Sheep,
Aaron Thompson,
The Evens,
The Standells,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Count Five,
Sarah Menescal,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kool Moe Dee,
Hoover,
Warren Ellis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Skaos,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ultra Naté,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pagans,
Crime,
Michelle Simonal,
John Coltrane,
Soulsonic Force,
Bill Near,
Quando Quango,
Delon & Dalcan,
Grauzone,
X-102,
Lalann,
In Retrospect,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rotary Connection,
Eli Mardock,
Rapeman,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Swans,
X-101,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
DJ Style,
Marshall Jefferson,
Schoolly D,
Adolescents,
Dead Boys,
Y Pants,
Swell Maps,
Ohio Players,
The Red Krayola,
Minnie Riperton,
B.T. Express,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.