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 El Salvador 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Barry Ungar to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Lalann,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Mummies,
Black Pus,
Technova,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Buckinghams,
Barbara Tucker,
Underground Resistance,
The Beau Brummels,
Quando Quango,
The Count Five,
Warsaw,
Talk Talk,
Rhythm & Sound,
A Flock of Seagulls,
T.S.O.L.,
Black Moon,
Gang of Four,
Symarip,
Minutemen,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Q and Not U,
Chrome,
Y Pants,
The Dead C,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bad Manners,
Jesper Dahlback,
Desert Stars,
Whodini,
Minny Pops,
Soft Cell,
Patti Smith,
Peter and Kerry,
Marmalade,
Parry Music,
JFA,
Organ,
the Slits,
Panda Bear,
Popol Vuh,
F. McDonald,
The Fall,
Theoretical Girls,
Electric Prunes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
June of 44,
Tears for Fears,
Liliput,
The Martian,
Moss Icon,
Suburban Knight,
Anakelly,
Gang Starr,
Sister Nancy,
Hardrive,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
June Days,
The Blues Magoos,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.