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 Ecuador and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Mr. Review to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Underground Resistance,
Mantronix,
Blake Baxter,
Yaz,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Don Cherry,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Swans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sex Pistols,
Joe Finger,
Intrusion,
The Young Rascals,
Jeff Lynne,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Mojo Men,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Buzzcocks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Robert Wyatt,
Carl Craig,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jacques Brel,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Raincoats,
The Busters,
Barrington Levy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cymande,
Khruangbin,
Country Teasers,
Leonard Cohen,
Grey Daturas,
Deadbeat,
Absolute Body Control,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Residents,
Schoolly D,
Tubeway Army,
Slave,
Graham Central Station,
The Fall,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nas,
Jandek,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Slackers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Depeche Mode,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gang of Four,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Durutti Column,
Alice Coltrane,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kayak,
Josef K,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.