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 Cambodia and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 Cecil Taylor to the crunk 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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Slave,
The Kinks,
Nirvana,
The Pretty Things,
Severed Heads,
Joe Finger,
Ponytail,
La Düsseldorf,
Archie Shepp,
These Immortal Souls,
Pussy Galore,
Kurtis Blow,
T.S.O.L.,
The Gap Band,
Matthew Halsall,
The United States of America,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Robert Wyatt,
Ossler,
Gichy Dan,
Alice Coltrane,
Sex Pistols,
Traffic Nightmare,
Junior Murvin,
Porter Ricks,
Camberwell Now,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jawbox,
Ituana,
Faust,
Visage,
OOIOO,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pulsallama,
Arcadia,
Aswad,
Wire,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Tremeloes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Raincoats,
Piero Umiliani,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
John Foxx,
Swans,
Siglo XX,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mad Mike,
Scratch Acid,
Toni Rubio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Skaos,
Minnie Riperton,
Fear,
Second Layer,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.