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 Mauritania and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Robert Palmer 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 Gang Starr to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Pierre Henry,
Derrick Morgan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Procol Harum,
The Victims,
The Beau Brummels,
Marc Almond,
Average White Band,
Graham Central Station,
Chrome,
Deakin,
Cybotron,
Shuggie Otis,
Flipper,
Lyres,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Massinfluence,
Tubeway Army,
Stereo Dub,
Fela Kuti,
Anthony Braxton,
Supertramp,
Brothers Johnson,
Harpers Bizarre,
These Immortal Souls,
Fluxion,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bang On A Can,
Depeche Mode,
Davy DMX,
Oneida,
Alton Ellis,
Fatback Band,
Roxy Music,
Don Cherry,
Delta 5,
Man Eating Sloth,
Erykah Badu,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Television Personalities,
Gabor Szabo,
Reagan Youth,
Television,
Sam Rivers,
F. McDonald,
The Associates,
LL Cool J,
The Music Machine,
Lower 48,
Groovy Waters,
John Coltrane,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skaos,
Morten Harket,
Pussy Galore,
Sun City Girls,
The Misunderstood,
The Happenings,
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.