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 Antigua and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Yusef Lateef to the funk 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Icehouse,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stetsasonic,
Liliput,
DJ Style,
DNA,
Erykah Badu,
Godley & Creme,
Don Cherry,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Sound,
The Fire Engines,
Tim Buckley,
Scott Walker,
L. Decosne,
Delta 5,
Television Personalities,
kango's stein massive,
Symarip,
Sonic Youth,
Moby Grape,
Chris Corsano,
Alice Coltrane,
Siglo XX,
Young Marble Giants,
Grey Daturas,
Cluster,
Harmonia,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Drexciya,
The Monochrome Set,
Sister Nancy,
Joey Negro,
Amon Düül II,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
T. Rex,
Blake Baxter,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alton Ellis,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marine Girls,
Qualms,
Andrew Hill,
The Beau Brummels,
X-101,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Toasters,
the Sonics,
Max Romeo,
Marvin Gaye,
Silicon Teens,
Stiv Bators,
The Velvet Underground,
The Associates,
Prince Buster,
The Fortunes,
Clear Light,
The Litter,
Jandek,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.