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 Spokane.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Barrington Levy to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pulsallama,
KRS-One,
Supertramp,
Shuggie Otis,
Dark Day,
The Buckinghams,
The Saints,
Crash Course in Science,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Kayak,
Mission of Burma,
Yaz,
Cybotron,
Eli Mardock,
Talk Talk,
CMW,
Aural Exciters,
Sun City Girls,
The Count Five,
Charles Mingus,
The Dirtbombs,
Kerrie Biddell,
H. Thieme,
Underground Resistance,
The J.B.'s,
Aswad,
The New Christs,
Soul Sonic Force,
a-ha,
The Trojans,
John Cale,
Bill Near,
Jeff Lynne,
Q65,
One Last Wish,
Jacques Brel,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Young Rascals,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mandrill,
The United States of America,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fatback Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Yusef Lateef,
Harmonia,
Chrome,
Agent Orange,
David Bowie,
Sound Behaviour,
Robert Wyatt,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hasil Adkins,
Nation of Ulysses,
Clear Light,
Wings,
LL Cool J,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.