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 China and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Holger Czukay 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 New Age Steppers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ornette Coleman,
Pulsallama,
Nirvana,
The Grass Roots,
B.T. Express,
Mission of Burma,
Suburban Knight,
Rites of Spring,
Bad Manners,
The Fugs,
Matthew Halsall,
Urselle,
Depeche Mode,
Public Enemy,
Tres Demented,
Monks,
The Real Kids,
Hardrive,
Zero Boys,
Negative Approach,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Donny Hathaway,
Cluster,
Deadbeat,
Robert Wyatt,
Schoolly D,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Agitation Free,
The Residents,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Red Krayola,
Country Teasers,
the Germs,
The Searchers,
Porter Ricks,
The J.B.'s,
Basic Channel,
World's Most,
Gabor Szabo,
Todd Rundgren,
Pierre Henry,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Minutemen,
The Dead C,
The Gap Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Cecil Taylor,
Surgeon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Khruangbin,
Lightning Bolt,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Throbbing Gristle,
8 Eyed Spy,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.