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 Papua New Guinea and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
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 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 Michael McDonald 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 Bluetip to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls 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?
Thee Headcoats,
Wally Richardson,
Michelle Simonal,
Young Marble Giants,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cecil Taylor,
Lindisfarne,
Blancmange,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Real Kids,
T. Rex,
Jacob Miller,
Jandek,
Minnie Riperton,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Royal Trux,
Bronski Beat,
The Skatalites,
Quantec,
Bob Dylan,
Sonic Youth,
Sister Nancy,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Cure,
The Fire Engines,
the Swans,
Barry Ungar,
MC5,
Qualms,
Gichy Dan,
Brass Construction,
DJ Style,
Jeff Lynne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Intrusion,
Popol Vuh,
Terry Callier,
James White and The Blacks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sparks,
Unwound,
The Star Department,
The Electric Prunes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Freddie Wadling,
Main Source,
Gang Green,
The Black Dice,
K-Klass,
Gong,
Flipper,
Pierre Henry,
CMW,
The Tremeloes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Raincoats,
Rufus Thomas,
X-101,
Moss Icon,
Smog,
Desert Stars,
Ice-T,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.