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 Kyrgyzstan and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Newcleus to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Cheater Slicks,
Chris Corsano,
Pierre Henry,
T. Rex,
Sun City Girls,
Cal Tjader,
Mr. Review,
Kurtis Blow,
Don Cherry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Brick,
Colin Newman,
Bill Near,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jawbox,
John Foxx,
Pere Ubu,
The Index,
Organ,
Barrington Levy,
Moss Icon,
Newcleus,
The Music Machine,
Angry Samoans,
Roy Ayers,
Bush Tetras,
The Modern Lovers,
Quadrant,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Saints,
the Bar-Kays,
Sound Behaviour,
The Fortunes,
Bauhaus,
The Knickerbockers,
Easy Going,
Lower 48,
Faraquet,
Livin' Joy,
Khruangbin,
Eli Mardock,
The Black Dice,
Zapp,
Suicide,
Dark Day,
Malaria!,
Warsaw,
Half Japanese,
Zero Boys,
Sister Nancy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Graham Central Station,
Babytalk,
The Doors,
Byron Stingily,
Blake Baxter,
Robert Görl,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.