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 Mozambique and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Babytalk to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wasted Youth,
Massinfluence,
Ohio Players,
Peter and Kerry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Boz Scaggs,
The Moleskins,
Public Image Ltd.,
a-ha,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Moody Blues,
X-101,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rosa Yemen,
Bob Dylan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Boogie Down Productions,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Radiohead,
B.T. Express,
Tropical Tobacco,
Johnny Clarke,
U.S. Maple,
Harmonia,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Godley & Creme,
Dennis Brown,
The Cowsills,
Fat Boys,
The Toasters,
Japan,
E-Dancer,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Sheep,
Frankie Knuckles,
Joy Division,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ronnie Foster,
Goldenarms,
The Saints,
Deakin,
John Foxx,
The Dead C,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Dave Clark Five,
Half Japanese,
Terry Callier,
Von Mondo,
The Move,
Brass Construction,
New York Dolls,
Deepchord,
Pylon,
June Days,
The Beau Brummels,
Anakelly,
The Modern Lovers,
Cybotron,
Youth Brigade,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.