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 Nauru and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Surgeon to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Little Man,
Yaz,
Quando Quango,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kool Moe Dee,
Oneida,
Tomorrow,
Sällskapet,
Inner City,
UT,
Terrestrial Tones,
Graham Central Station,
Desert Stars,
Organ,
Freddie Wadling,
the Soft Cell,
John Lydon,
Black Flag,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Count Five,
Trumans Water,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Skaos,
Gong,
Joensuu 1685,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kurtis Blow,
Byron Stingily,
Jacob Miller,
Surgeon,
David Bowie,
Letta Mbulu,
Marvin Gaye,
Joy Division,
Lalann,
Crispian St. Peters,
Supertramp,
Leonard Cohen,
Dave Gahan,
Avey Tare,
Bush Tetras,
MC5,
Spandau Ballet,
Erasure,
Marine Girls,
Kas Product,
Smog,
Sonic Youth,
The Sonics,
Metal Thangz,
The Cowsills,
The Evens,
Fear,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jawbox,
Dawn Penn,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.