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 Sri Lanka and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe 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 The Leaves 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill 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?
The Real Kids,
Max Romeo,
T. Rex,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeff Mills,
Babytalk,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sun City Girls,
Eurythmics,
Vainqueur,
Sister Nancy,
Hardrive,
Wasted Youth,
Kerri Chandler,
Mark Hollis,
Ken Boothe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Drexciya,
Cal Tjader,
Echospace,
In Retrospect,
Symarip,
Joe Smooth,
Boz Scaggs,
B.T. Express,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sexual Harrassment,
Idris Muhammad,
Ice-T,
Marcia Griffiths,
Flamin' Groovies,
Essential Logic,
The Fall,
Traffic Nightmare,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Gun Club,
Magma,
Parry Music,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moss Icon,
Swans,
Tubeway Army,
The J.B.'s,
Lyres,
Loose Ends,
Absolute Body Control,
Thompson Twins,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Selecter,
Hoover,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roxy Music,
Deakin,
Sarah Menescal,
Angry Samoans,
Nas,
Marvin Gaye,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tomorrow,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
X-101,
Malaria!,
June Days,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.