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 Denmark and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Donald Fagen 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Wings,
Easy Going,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
John Cale,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scott Walker,
Aural Exciters,
X-Ray Spex,
X-102,
Patti Smith,
The Gories,
DNA,
The Gun Club,
Bill Near,
Ten City,
Scratch Acid,
Terry Callier,
Yazoo,
The Last Poets,
kango's stein massive,
Derrick Morgan,
Idris Muhammad,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Laurel Aitken,
Pantaleimon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Depeche Mode,
Fear,
The Evens,
Spoonie Gee,
Half Japanese,
Jawbox,
Stiv Bators,
Grandmaster Flash,
Altered Images,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Zeros,
Chris Corsano,
Cal Tjader,
Black Pus,
Aswad,
Trumans Water,
Oneida,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roger Hodgson,
Quando Quango,
The Names,
Tim Buckley,
Quantec,
Davy DMX,
The Gladiators,
Scientists,
Suburban Knight,
Shoche,
The Red Krayola,
Pussy Galore,
Harpers Bizarre,
Country Teasers,
The Standells,
The Misunderstood,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.