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 Georgia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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?
Stereo Dub,
Reagan Youth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eurythmics,
Peter & Gordon,
The Gladiators,
Blossom Toes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kayak,
Toni Rubio,
R.M.O.,
Babytalk,
Au Pairs,
the Slits,
Angry Samoans,
Warren Ellis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ultimate Spinach,
Hashim,
The Walker Brothers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nas,
Flipper,
Technova,
The Kinks,
Sound Behaviour,
Blake Baxter,
Byron Stingily,
Pantaleimon,
Steve Hackett,
the Bar-Kays,
Crooked Eye,
Pulsallama,
Khruangbin,
Altered Images,
The Cure,
Slick Rick,
Ken Boothe,
Nation of Ulysses,
Surgeon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nirvana,
Subhumans,
Lungfish,
KRS-One,
Kurtis Blow,
The Star Department,
Barbara Tucker,
Negative Approach,
Chris & Cosey,
The Wake,
Lalo Schifrin,
Skarface,
Bang On A Can,
Aural Exciters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Names,
David Axelrod,
Alison Limerick,
Harmonia,
the Human League,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.