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 Somalia and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Agent Orange to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
Letta Mbulu,
Eddi Front,
Lou Reed,
Radio Birdman,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crispian St. Peters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scan 7,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Yusef Lateef,
Brothers Johnson,
Spandau Ballet,
Amon Düül II,
Lower 48,
Half Japanese,
Piero Umiliani,
Jeru the Damaja,
Index,
Girls At Our Best!,
PIL,
Alice Coltrane,
Sound Behaviour,
L. Decosne,
Todd Terry,
the Germs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pharoah Sanders,
Loose Ends,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Moon,
Technova,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Patti Smith,
The Fortunes,
48th St. Collective,
These Immortal Souls,
MC5,
The Wake,
The Divine Comedy,
The Five Americans,
Sandy B,
Kerri Chandler,
Brick,
the Normal,
Joe Smooth,
Graham Central Station,
Nik Kershaw,
Pagans,
Saccharine Trust,
Mandrill,
Roy Ayers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Josef K,
Intrusion,
Skriet,
The Busters,
Jacques Brel,
Grandmaster Flash,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.