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 Monaco and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Accra.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Flamin' Groovies to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Loose Ends,
Bush Tetras,
The J.B.'s,
Bootsy Collins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mandrill,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Cowsills,
Junior Murvin,
Laurel Aitken,
Ken Boothe,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Star Department,
These Immortal Souls,
Pole,
Thompson Twins,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rakim,
Joey Negro,
Sun City Girls,
The Index,
Traffic Nightmare,
Qualms,
Intrusion,
Liliput,
Delta 5,
The Moody Blues,
The Human League,
Jawbox,
Freddie Wadling,
Quadrant,
Blancmange,
The Alarm Clocks,
Procol Harum,
Gang Starr,
Ten City,
Parry Music,
Ornette Coleman,
John Lydon,
La Düsseldorf,
Terry Callier,
MC5,
R.M.O.,
Pantytec,
Audionom,
The Gun Club,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Colin Newman,
Pere Ubu,
X-102,
Inner City,
Gabor Szabo,
Unrelated Segments,
Quantec,
Black Bananas,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.