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 Cuba and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 Silicon Teens to the funk 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Gladiators,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Andrew Hill,
Flamin' Groovies,
Todd Rundgren,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Japan,
Yellowson,
Excepter,
Cluster,
CMW,
Second Layer,
Con Funk Shun,
The Barracudas,
Nils Olav,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Cowsills,
Moebius,
Kool Moe Dee,
Swell Maps,
Barbara Tucker,
World's Most,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Peter & Gordon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Flag,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Adolescents,
Au Pairs,
Q and Not U,
Von Mondo,
Massinfluence,
Sarah Menescal,
Basic Channel,
Accadde A,
Scion,
Peter and Kerry,
Gabor Szabo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Yusef Lateef,
The Five Americans,
Quadrant,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Hasil Adkins,
Quando Quango,
Pierre Henry,
Metal Thangz,
Index,
UT,
Cheater Slicks,
Kayak,
Deepchord,
Underground Resistance,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.