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 Albania and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar 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 snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
PIL,
World's Most,
the Swans,
The Vogues,
The Selecter,
Wasted Youth,
Mandrill,
Rotary Connection,
Accadde A,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fatback Band,
Lower 48,
Pharoah Sanders,
Hashim,
Faust,
The Young Rascals,
The Slits,
Camberwell Now,
Dual Sessions,
Masters at Work,
Suburban Knight,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sun City Girls,
Loose Ends,
Mark Hollis,
Amon Düül,
Rekid,
Clear Light,
Hasil Adkins,
Moby Grape,
Rod Modell,
Audionom,
Eve St. Jones,
Icehouse,
Delta 5,
The United States of America,
Byron Stingily,
Radio Birdman,
Ken Boothe,
Tim Buckley,
Desert Stars,
Howard Jones,
Underground Resistance,
Pierre Henry,
Anakelly,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
10cc,
Sexual Harrassment,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Stereo Dub,
Minnie Riperton,
Junior Murvin,
Aloha Tigers,
June Days,
Au Pairs,
Ultra Naté,
Harpers Bizarre,
Boz Scaggs,
the Sonics,
Buzzcocks,
X-102,
Yusef Lateef,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.