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 Senegal and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Mummies to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maurizio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Connie Case,
Sun City Girls,
The Victims,
Scott Walker,
Gong,
The Fire Engines,
Lou Reed,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Morten Harket,
E-Dancer,
Schoolly D,
Grey Daturas,
Stereo Dub,
Pere Ubu,
Pylon,
Deakin,
Rekid,
Aural Exciters,
Outsiders,
The Monochrome Set,
Graham Central Station,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rakim,
The Dave Clark Five,
Wings,
Jacob Miller,
Basic Channel,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Absolute Body Control,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pulsallama,
Mad Mike,
David McCallum,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Sherman,
Avey Tare,
Half Japanese,
The Golliwogs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Agent Orange,
Bush Tetras,
Gregory Isaacs,
Brand Nubian,
The Tremeloes,
DNA,
Bootsy Collins,
Spandau Ballet,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pantytec,
Hasil Adkins,
The Cure,
Eric B and Rakim,
Black Moon,
The Fuzztones,
Animal Collective,
Young Marble Giants,
Soft Cell,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arcadia,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.