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 Morocco and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Robert Görl to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Deadbeat,
Max Romeo,
F. McDonald,
Television,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lou Reed,
Massinfluence,
Reuben Wilson,
The Red Krayola,
the Soft Cell,
The Raincoats,
Johnny Clarke,
Black Flag,
Delon & Dalcan,
B.T. Express,
Infiniti,
Shoche,
Eve St. Jones,
Mantronix,
The Last Poets,
New York Dolls,
Fluxion,
E-Dancer,
Bill Wells,
The Grass Roots,
Magma,
Adolescents,
Kurtis Blow,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Electric Prunes,
Chris Corsano,
Mark Hollis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Barbara Tucker,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jeff Lynne,
Bobby Womack,
Ornette Coleman,
Clear Light,
Alton Ellis,
Kas Product,
The Velvet Underground,
Lou Christie,
Das Ding,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Neu!,
Avey Tare,
Jawbox,
The Monks,
John Lydon,
Roger Hodgson,
Arthur Verocai,
The Angels of Light,
Eddi Front,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Peter and Kerry,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.