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 Korea South and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Nile Rodgers 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 June of 44 to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jesper Dahlback. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
The Flesh Eaters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mission of Burma,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Real Kids,
Make Up,
Peter and Kerry,
A Certain Ratio,
Alton Ellis,
H. Thieme,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Yellowson,
Robert Görl,
Skaos,
Rosa Yemen,
Lucky Dragons,
Sparks,
Lightning Bolt,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Black Moon,
The Divine Comedy,
The Cowsills,
the Soft Cell,
Godley & Creme,
The Vogues,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sam Rivers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fall,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Graham Central Station,
Kool Moe Dee,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kerrie Biddell,
Royal Trux,
Mr. Review,
Public Enemy,
John Lydon,
Das Ding,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Al Stewart,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jeru the Damaja,
Minor Threat,
The Fire Engines,
Rotary Connection,
Anthony Braxton,
The Litter,
Freddie Wadling,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Blake Baxter,
Heaven 17,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Evens,
Gerry Rafferty,
Newcleus,
Junior Murvin,
the Normal,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.