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 Panama and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 A Certain Ratio to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nils Olav,
Graham Central Station,
The Blues Magoos,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Sheep,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Fugs,
MDC,
Hasil Adkins,
Ash Ra Tempel,
U.S. Maple,
Anthony Braxton,
David McCallum,
Nick Fraelich,
Cal Tjader,
AZ,
Scion,
Moss Icon,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Vogues,
Ronnie Foster,
Liliput,
DJ Sneak,
The New Christs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Boz Scaggs,
Mars,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eric Copeland,
Angry Samoans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Sonics,
The Victims,
Aswad,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tears for Fears,
Scientists,
PIL,
The Moody Blues,
D'Angelo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Animal Collective,
Jesper Dahlback,
Duran Duran,
Sight & Sound,
Fad Gadget,
the Slits,
The Durutti Column,
Popol Vuh,
Shoche,
The Beau Brummels,
Jawbox,
Subhumans,
The Names,
Rod Modell,
Radio Birdman,
8 Eyed Spy,
OOIOO,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.