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 Bolivia and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Stereo Dub to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
One Last Wish,
Vainqueur,
The Durutti Column,
K-Klass,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Icehouse,
Thee Headcoats,
Au Pairs,
Jeff Mills,
Cal Tjader,
Rapeman,
A Certain Ratio,
Zero Boys,
The Motions,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Raincoats,
These Immortal Souls,
Lindisfarne,
Kool Moe Dee,
Khruangbin,
Roxette,
Slave,
Trumans Water,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Quantec,
The Sound,
Sandy B,
JFA,
Alice Coltrane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
In Retrospect,
Boredoms,
DJ Sneak,
Sex Pistols,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Severed Heads,
New York Dolls,
Loose Ends,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Pretty Things,
Davy DMX,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tim Buckley,
The Slackers,
Fad Gadget,
Roxy Music,
Faraquet,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Public Enemy,
Todd Rundgren,
Rod Modell,
Todd Terry,
Section 25,
Steve Hackett,
Brick,
Scratch Acid,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eli Mardock,
Lou Christie,
Gabor Szabo,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.