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 Congo and from London.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manchester.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Angry Samoans to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Erykah Badu,
Bronski Beat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harmonia,
Lower 48,
Kurtis Blow,
Brand Nubian,
Lucky Dragons,
Arab on Radar,
Los Fastidios,
Au Pairs,
Patti Smith,
The J.B.'s,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Holt,
Pussy Galore,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Slackers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pylon,
Tim Buckley,
Terrestrial Tones,
Vainqueur,
Sam Rivers,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Pus,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hoover,
Sixth Finger,
Joe Finger,
Althea and Donna,
Kevin Saunderson,
X-101,
B.T. Express,
The Seeds,
Johnny Osbourne,
Andrew Hill,
DJ Style,
Curtis Mayfield,
Parry Music,
Masters at Work,
Joey Negro,
Underground Resistance,
Television,
The Grass Roots,
Arthur Verocai,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Heaven 17,
Susan Cadogan,
Eve St. Jones,
Public Image Ltd.,
Youth Brigade,
Bob Dylan,
The Vogues,
Nirvana,
Dual Sessions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Robert Wyatt,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Main Source,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.