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 South Sudan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kurtis Blow to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun 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?
AZ,
Mission of Burma,
X-102,
Johnny Clarke,
Cal Tjader,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Quadrant,
Das Ding,
Bobby Womack,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Chris Corsano,
The Electric Prunes,
Procol Harum,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Patti Smith,
Donald Byrd,
The Tremeloes,
Ohio Players,
Lungfish,
the Sonics,
The Five Americans,
Amazonics,
Scrapy,
ABBA,
Sonic Youth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Girls At Our Best!,
Severed Heads,
Sixth Finger,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eric Copeland,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Associates,
Derrick May,
Silicon Teens,
Excepter,
Terrestrial Tones,
Anthony Braxton,
The Black Dice,
The Cure,
8 Eyed Spy,
Metal Thangz,
China Crisis,
Neu!,
F. McDonald,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Golliwogs,
Sällskapet,
The J.B.'s,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Knickerbockers,
David McCallum,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bronski Beat,
Ornette Coleman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blossom Toes,
Marvin Gaye,
Juan Atkins,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.