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 Dominica and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Flesh Eaters to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Letta Mbulu,
The Mummies,
James White and The Blacks,
The Fire Engines,
B.T. Express,
Todd Rundgren,
Japan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cal Tjader,
Monks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
OOIOO,
Quadrant,
Faust,
Alphaville,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nils Olav,
Joy Division,
Eric B and Rakim,
Crime,
New York Dolls,
Bad Manners,
The Music Machine,
Scott Walker,
X-Ray Spex,
Minor Threat,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Anthony Braxton,
Crooked Eye,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sixth Finger,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Leonard Cohen,
Easy Going,
The Offenders,
Tom Boy,
Chrome,
Franke,
Visage,
Boredoms,
Flash Fearless,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joensuu 1685,
The Cure,
Tropical Tobacco,
PIL,
MDC,
Pussy Galore,
David Axelrod,
Bob Dylan,
Marc Almond,
Tomorrow,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Man Parrish,
Scientists,
EPMD,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Guru Guru,
Jacques Brel,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.