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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Edmonton.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Kayak to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Khruangbin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Nick Fraelich,
Eve St. Jones,
Sex Pistols,
Scratch Acid,
Anthony Braxton,
Mark Hollis,
The Velvet Underground,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Whodini,
Rotary Connection,
Man Parrish,
Flipper,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
John Cale,
Robert Wyatt,
Alton Ellis,
Juan Atkins,
The Raincoats,
Television,
Scrapy,
David Axelrod,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Tremeloes,
Glenn Branca,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Arcadia,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Maurizio,
Sun City Girls,
Chris Corsano,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Joe Finger,
Archie Shepp,
The Pretty Things,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Blake Baxter,
Andrew Hill,
Terrestrial Tones,
Goldenarms,
Severed Heads,
The Stooges,
Stockholm Monsters,
Loose Ends,
Underground Resistance,
Bill Wells,
Crispy Ambulance,
Man Eating Sloth,
Adolescents,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Khruangbin,
EPMD,
The Fire Engines,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Modern Lovers,
Skaos,
Maleditus Sound,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.