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 Mauritius and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Divine Comedy to the funk 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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Faust,
John Lydon,
The Fall,
Joensuu 1685,
Sun Ra,
The Walker Brothers,
Reagan Youth,
Avey Tare,
Essential Logic,
the Association,
Sun City Girls,
Erasure,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Angels of Light,
Whodini,
Bill Near,
Colin Newman,
Barry Ungar,
Skaos,
Lou Christie,
Rapeman,
Warsaw,
Cal Tjader,
Lindisfarne,
Girls At Our Best!,
Joe Finger,
The Divine Comedy,
Slick Rick,
The Black Dice,
Piero Umiliani,
The Searchers,
Curtis Mayfield,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Altered Images,
Yusef Lateef,
The Motions,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jesper Dahlback,
Radio Birdman,
The Selecter,
Chris Corsano,
Ronnie Foster,
Howard Jones,
Bad Manners,
Mandrill,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sonic Youth,
One Last Wish,
Ken Boothe,
Barclay James Harvest,
Easy Going,
Jerry's Kids,
Idris Muhammad,
the Swans,
Spoonie Gee,
Absolute Body Control,
Sonny Sharrock,
FM Einheit,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.