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 Botswana and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 The Slits to the jazz 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Bobby Byrd,
Faraquet,
EPMD,
Drive Like Jehu,
Quando Quango,
Yaz,
Goldenarms,
CMW,
Don Cherry,
Hasil Adkins,
The Real Kids,
Oneida,
Supertramp,
Morten Harket,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Harry Pussy,
Sixth Finger,
Mark Hollis,
Marmalade,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Smiths,
John Lydon,
Banda Bassotti,
the Soft Cell,
The Angels of Light,
Easy Going,
Laurel Aitken,
Alison Limerick,
Steve Hackett,
Fat Boys,
Junior Murvin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barbara Tucker,
Warsaw,
Lalo Schifrin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sugar Minott,
Public Enemy,
Khruangbin,
The Wake,
Pagans,
Pere Ubu,
The Fuzztones,
The Gories,
The J.B.'s,
Stiv Bators,
E-Dancer,
Interpol,
Robert Hood,
Nico,
Godley & Creme,
Joensuu 1685,
Lalann,
DNA,
Eric B and Rakim,
Crispy Ambulance,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.