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 El Salvador and from London.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 John Coltrane to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Visage,
Slave,
James White and The Blacks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fugazi,
Cluster,
Goldenarms,
Procol Harum,
Eve St. Jones,
The Moleskins,
These Immortal Souls,
Nico,
Siglo XX,
Bob Dylan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Quando Quango,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ludus,
KRS-One,
Eli Mardock,
The Blackbyrds,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Aaron Thompson,
Davy DMX,
Man Parrish,
Michelle Simonal,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Swans,
The Cowsills,
DNA,
Soulsonic Force,
Joensuu 1685,
Ice-T,
The Fortunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sex Pistols,
The Human League,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scion,
Roger Hodgson,
Kerrie Biddell,
AZ,
Pere Ubu,
Hardrive,
Blancmange,
T.S.O.L.,
John Foxx,
H. Thieme,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Last Poets,
Spandau Ballet,
Tom Boy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Althea and Donna,
X-101,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.