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 Liechtenstein and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Arthur Verocai to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Maurizio,
Faust,
The Fire Engines,
Soulsonic Force,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dual Sessions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Skatalites,
Barry Ungar,
Blancmange,
The Doors,
Minny Pops,
The Monochrome Set,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Durutti Column,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Sonics,
Barbara Tucker,
the Human League,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scrapy,
Man Parrish,
Traffic Nightmare,
D'Angelo,
Jandek,
Camberwell Now,
Laurel Aitken,
Popol Vuh,
Rufus Thomas,
Donny Hathaway,
Bauhaus,
Porter Ricks,
Blake Baxter,
Peter and Kerry,
Scan 7,
The Standells,
Pussy Galore,
Idris Muhammad,
Quando Quango,
Cymande,
The Monks,
Neu!,
Desert Stars,
The Tremeloes,
ABC,
The Move,
The Happenings,
Ronnie Foster,
T. Rex,
Organ,
Mantronix,
Talk Talk,
Amazonics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Swell Maps,
Infiniti,
Bluetip,
The Sound,
Ornette Coleman,
Nik Kershaw,
Vainqueur,
Tim Buckley,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.