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 Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Stetsasonic to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
The Martian,
Television,
E-Dancer,
Pulsallama,
Circle Jerks,
Royal Trux,
Eurythmics,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Bananas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Black Dice,
Peter & Gordon,
Neu!,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Warren Ellis,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Red Krayola,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
T. Rex,
Jeru the Damaja,
Piero Umiliani,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
New Age Steppers,
Warsaw,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Misunderstood,
Johnny Clarke,
Soft Cell,
Minny Pops,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ornette Coleman,
Tom Boy,
Depeche Mode,
Bobby Womack,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fuzztones,
John Lydon,
Agent Orange,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Neon Judgement,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Slits,
Barclay James Harvest,
Eric Copeland,
Scan 7,
Blancmange,
The Real Kids,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Metal Thangz,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Tremeloes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nico,
the Swans,
Sparks,
Sugar Minott,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Faust,
Babytalk,
Reagan Youth,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.