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 Monaco and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Toronto.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 World's Most to the jazz 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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd 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?
The Monks,
Porter Ricks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lalann,
Lungfish,
Das Ding,
Aswad,
Kaleidoscope,
Television,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Young Rascals,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Names,
Eric Copeland,
The Wake,
Quando Quango,
Cameo,
the Slits,
The Gories,
Sixth Finger,
Bob Dylan,
Steve Hackett,
The Pretty Things,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Martian,
Unwound,
Bauhaus,
The Angels of Light,
New Order,
Byron Stingily,
Mr. Review,
Fatback Band,
Charles Mingus,
Arcadia,
The Music Machine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Junior Murvin,
New Age Steppers,
John Holt,
Joensuu 1685,
Lucky Dragons,
Mars,
Nirvana,
The Litter,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Maurizio,
Eurythmics,
Khruangbin,
The Walker Brothers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tres Demented,
The Victims,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Saints,
Drexciya,
Morten Harket,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.