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 Belarus and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 David Bowie 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 Jacques Brel to the crunk 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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Fugazi,
Eve St. Jones,
The Neon Judgement,
Derrick Morgan,
Monolake,
Brick,
Cluster,
Technova,
Crash Course in Science,
The Mummies,
The Gun Club,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eurythmics,
Jacques Brel,
Trumans Water,
The Red Krayola,
Banda Bassotti,
The Music Machine,
Arcadia,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Derrick May,
Max Romeo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nirvana,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Count Five,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Slits,
Unwound,
Procol Harum,
The J.B.'s,
The Move,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Index,
L. Decosne,
Scrapy,
Deakin,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Cale,
Hasil Adkins,
Idris Muhammad,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Nas,
Monks,
The Trojans,
The Associates,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nik Kershaw,
Juan Atkins,
The Slackers,
Boz Scaggs,
Rotary Connection,
Ossler,
Icehouse,
Gang Starr,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Divine Comedy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.