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 Solomon Islands and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Kerri Chandler to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bananas. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Womack,
Camouflage,
Josef K,
Janne Schatter,
Ornette Coleman,
Ten City,
Sister Nancy,
World's Most,
Altered Images,
The Red Krayola,
Reuben Wilson,
The Techniques,
Hashim,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Alphaville,
Soulsonic Force,
Funky Four + One,
Mr. Review,
48th St. Collective,
Todd Rundgren,
Marvin Gaye,
Brothers Johnson,
Tom Boy,
Country Teasers,
Cluster,
Monolake,
Minny Pops,
Jeru the Damaja,
a-ha,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Blancmange,
David Axelrod,
Derrick Morgan,
FM Einheit,
Severed Heads,
Eve St. Jones,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Deadbeat,
Michelle Simonal,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ossler,
Deepchord,
Alison Limerick,
Lower 48,
Blake Baxter,
The Leaves,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Al Stewart,
Angry Samoans,
Rosa Yemen,
Saccharine Trust,
The Black Dice,
Gabor Szabo,
Eli Mardock,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Offenders,
The Count Five,
Maurizio,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.