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 Kosovo and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 John Coltrane to the techno 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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Severed Heads,
Lungfish,
The Fall,
Guru Guru,
The Dead C,
Ituana,
John Holt,
The Pretty Things,
Warren Ellis,
The Mojo Men,
X-Ray Spex,
Johnny Clarke,
Eve St. Jones,
Symarip,
Dawn Penn,
The Five Americans,
Ohio Players,
Los Fastidios,
Dark Day,
Man Parrish,
La Düsseldorf,
Quando Quango,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sex Pistols,
Byron Stingily,
Alphaville,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pylon,
Ken Boothe,
Groovy Waters,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rufus Thomas,
Eli Mardock,
Anakelly,
Jacques Brel,
China Crisis,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Erasure,
Barry Ungar,
The Raincoats,
AZ,
Livin' Joy,
Index,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Iggy Pop,
Davy DMX,
John Foxx,
Moebius,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Banda Bassotti,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Liliput,
Country Teasers,
Tubeway Army,
Suburban Knight,
Pussy Galore,
Jerry's Kids,
Scientists,
Sam Rivers,
David McCallum,
Moby Grape,
The Motions,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.