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 Namibia 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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Monolake to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Tim Buckley,
Bob Dylan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wally Richardson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
One Last Wish,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Susan Cadogan,
Das Ding,
The Walker Brothers,
Alton Ellis,
Fluxion,
Pagans,
Pierre Henry,
Oneida,
Panda Bear,
Quadrant,
Graham Central Station,
Procol Harum,
Pere Ubu,
Suburban Knight,
Moebius,
Cybotron,
World's Most,
Aaron Thompson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fugazi,
DJ Style,
The Standells,
Hashim,
Fatback Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Deadbeat,
Trumans Water,
PIL,
John Cale,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sun City Girls,
Sparks,
Ponytail,
Cymande,
Index,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dawn Penn,
Swell Maps,
Terry Callier,
The Music Machine,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
JFA,
Warsaw,
The Birthday Party,
Country Teasers,
Model 500,
Bluetip,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pet Shop Boys,
Chrome,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.