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 Zimbabwe and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ralphi Rosario to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 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?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pierre Henry,
Television Personalities,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Gories,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marine Girls,
8 Eyed Spy,
Faust,
Avey Tare,
The Slackers,
Derrick May,
The Invisible,
The Doors,
Ituana,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Blackbyrds,
The Residents,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bob Dylan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Remains,
Au Pairs,
The J.B.'s,
Jacques Brel,
Soft Cell,
The Slits,
Ohio Players,
The Smiths,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nils Olav,
Metal Thangz,
The Five Americans,
E-Dancer,
John Coltrane,
Shoche,
Spandau Ballet,
Tim Buckley,
Liliput,
The Seeds,
Chris Corsano,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Big Daddy Kane,
This Heat,
The Neon Judgement,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Star Department,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Main Source,
Delta 5,
Davy DMX,
A Certain Ratio,
Tom Boy,
Joey Negro,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.