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 Nepal and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Andrew Hill to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
John Holt,
the Slits,
Robert Wyatt,
The Move,
Idris Muhammad,
Joyce Sims,
Metal Thangz,
Shuggie Otis,
The Smoke,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Robert Görl,
Drive Like Jehu,
Alice Coltrane,
Accadde A,
the Normal,
Agent Orange,
Cal Tjader,
Bronski Beat,
David Bowie,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Quadrant,
The Fugs,
The Blues Magoos,
Eli Mardock,
Das Ding,
Neil Young,
Ornette Coleman,
Pierre Henry,
CMW,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Basic Channel,
the Human League,
Sun Ra,
Lower 48,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Wake,
The Divine Comedy,
Goldenarms,
Kenny Larkin,
Judy Mowatt,
Donald Byrd,
The Techniques,
Albert Ayler,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sparks,
Harry Pussy,
The Modern Lovers,
Glenn Branca,
June of 44,
Eurythmics,
Fear,
Tom Boy,
Darondo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slave,
Mr. Review,
LL Cool J,
Ultravox,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.