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 Serbia and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
Flash Fearless,
Dark Day,
Cecil Taylor,
The Gun Club,
MC5,
Rod Modell,
Tom Boy,
Robert Hood,
The Monochrome Set,
Sixth Finger,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ultravox,
Charles Mingus,
Wally Richardson,
Basic Channel,
Jeff Lynne,
Camouflage,
Avey Tare,
Kurtis Blow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Moebius,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Siglo XX,
One Last Wish,
Jawbox,
Index,
The Saints,
Ice-T,
Iggy Pop,
Von Mondo,
Bang On A Can,
Joe Finger,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Big Daddy Kane,
Faust,
Pere Ubu,
Lower 48,
Marc Almond,
Sandy B,
48th St. Collective,
Archie Shepp,
Fat Boys,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ituana,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Accadde A,
Letta Mbulu,
Organ,
Fad Gadget,
Sam Rivers,
Excepter,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Toasters,
Bluetip,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ultra Naté,
Roxette,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.