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 Benin and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Minnie Riperton to the grunge 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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Graham Central Station,
Moss Icon,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Standells,
The Monochrome Set,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Marcia Griffiths,
Yaz,
K-Klass,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Pop Group,
Alphaville,
Slave,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nico,
The New Christs,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Kinks,
Althea and Donna,
Index,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ludus,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Das Ding,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
D'Angelo,
John Coltrane,
Qualms,
Nick Fraelich,
Glenn Branca,
Barrington Levy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Victims,
Animal Collective,
Kayak,
Jacques Brel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
a-ha,
Los Fastidios,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Young Rascals,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Monks,
Dave Gahan,
David McCallum,
The Moody Blues,
Half Japanese,
Nas,
Shuggie Otis,
R.M.O.,
Skarface,
The Evens,
Con Funk Shun,
Terry Callier,
Kevin Saunderson,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.