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 Portugal and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cecil Taylor to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sixth Finger,
June Days,
Animal Collective,
Mr. Review,
Wolf Eyes,
R.M.O.,
Ultravox,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Robert Hood,
Bang On A Can,
Leonard Cohen,
Rites of Spring,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Stetsasonic,
Scan 7,
Mission of Burma,
Von Mondo,
Johnny Clarke,
Q and Not U,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Al Stewart,
Crispian St. Peters,
Roger Hodgson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ponytail,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pantytec,
Slick Rick,
Shuggie Otis,
Lungfish,
Radiohead,
The Black Dice,
Newcleus,
The Dead C,
Fad Gadget,
The Grass Roots,
Neu!,
Cheater Slicks,
Electric Prunes,
Soul Sonic Force,
F. McDonald,
Vainqueur,
Lindisfarne,
Average White Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Yaz,
The Gladiators,
the Sonics,
LL Cool J,
Eurythmics,
Prince Buster,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sexual Harrassment,
Zapp,
Bronski Beat,
PIL,
FM Einheit,
Bobby Sherman,
Jesper Dahlback,
Matthew Bourne,
Unwound,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.