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 Brunei and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Byron Stingily,
B.T. Express,
Idris Muhammad,
Interpol,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Don Cherry,
Slick Rick,
The Music Machine,
The Standells,
Make Up,
Liliput,
Second Layer,
The Smoke,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lakeside,
Be Bop Deluxe,
New York Dolls,
Crime,
John Coltrane,
Alice Coltrane,
Althea and Donna,
One Last Wish,
The United States of America,
Massinfluence,
World's Most,
Jerry's Kids,
Au Pairs,
Barrington Levy,
Electric Prunes,
Wasted Youth,
Slave,
Los Fastidios,
Junior Murvin,
Darondo,
Guru Guru,
Fat Boys,
MC5,
Fluxion,
The Slackers,
Scott Walker,
Robert Görl,
Panda Bear,
Leonard Cohen,
Von Mondo,
Janne Schatter,
June Days,
Ornette Coleman,
Eden Ahbez,
The Fuzztones,
Arthur Verocai,
The Moody Blues,
Kayak,
Cecil Taylor,
Technova,
The American Breed,
Lalann,
8 Eyed Spy,
Barry Ungar,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
DJ Style,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.