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 Nauru 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Donald Byrd to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Jeff Lynne,
Bad Manners,
Oneida,
Suicide,
Ken Boothe,
Interpol,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Thompson Twins,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eve St. Jones,
Tears for Fears,
The Offenders,
Rekid,
the Soft Cell,
Delta 5,
Blancmange,
Anthony Braxton,
The Tremeloes,
Joensuu 1685,
Pere Ubu,
Maleditus Sound,
Television,
Nirvana,
E-Dancer,
The Moleskins,
Country Teasers,
Josef K,
David McCallum,
The Standells,
Surgeon,
Lyres,
Davy DMX,
Kenny Larkin,
The Barracudas,
K-Klass,
Ituana,
The Misunderstood,
The Searchers,
Leonard Cohen,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Icehouse,
Yaz,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Fania All-Stars,
Reuben Wilson,
Half Japanese,
Albert Ayler,
Juan Atkins,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wally Richardson,
Ultravox,
Johnny Osbourne,
Little Man,
T. Rex,
Roger Hodgson,
Smog,
Danielle Patucci,
Lou Christie,
Joe Smooth,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.