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 Russia 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Freddie Wadling to the grunge 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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Sugar Minott,
The Fortunes,
Sarah Menescal,
The Cowsills,
Cal Tjader,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pantaleimon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Pretty Things,
Erasure,
Junior Murvin,
The Fuzztones,
T.S.O.L.,
Maleditus Sound,
Aural Exciters,
The Monochrome Set,
Young Marble Giants,
Fear,
Mission of Burma,
Soft Machine,
Connie Case,
The Names,
Lalo Schifrin,
Buzzcocks,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Victims,
Iggy Pop,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Susan Cadogan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Neon Judgement,
Al Stewart,
Chris Corsano,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bill Near,
World's Most,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Quando Quango,
The Stooges,
The Human League,
8 Eyed Spy,
UT,
Gastr Del Sol,
Glambeats Corp.,
Theoretical Girls,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Country Teasers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Vladislav Delay,
Model 500,
Drive Like Jehu,
Shuggie Otis,
Nirvana,
Outsiders,
The Associates,
Big Daddy Kane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jerry's Kids,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.