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 Toronto.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Holger Czukay 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 Velvet Underground to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Icehouse,
The Velvet Underground,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Divine Comedy,
Kaleidoscope,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Foxx,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alphaville,
Mandrill,
The Litter,
Scratch Acid,
Clear Light,
Bob Dylan,
Lakeside,
Vainqueur,
This Heat,
Crash Course in Science,
Surgeon,
The Durutti Column,
New Age Steppers,
The Raincoats,
A Certain Ratio,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Morten Harket,
The Skatalites,
Todd Terry,
Sarah Menescal,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mars,
The Misunderstood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Whodini,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rapeman,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
X-Ray Spex,
Ponytail,
Joey Negro,
Average White Band,
Ohio Players,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nas,
Rosa Yemen,
Public Image Ltd.,
Spandau Ballet,
Marmalade,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Victims,
Sixth Finger,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Sonics,
Sex Pistols,
Drive Like Jehu,
Avey Tare,
Lee Hazlewood,
Don Cherry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.