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 Afghanistan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Jimmy McGriff to the techno 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Bang On A Can,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lou Christie,
Laurel Aitken,
World's Most,
Rod Modell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mr. Review,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eddi Front,
the Association,
T.S.O.L.,
Arthur Verocai,
Brand Nubian,
Marshall Jefferson,
DNA,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Robert Görl,
Erasure,
Crispy Ambulance,
Simply Red,
Dennis Brown,
The Neon Judgement,
The Star Department,
Gong,
ABC,
Hasil Adkins,
The Dirtbombs,
Soulsonic Force,
Amazonics,
Electric Prunes,
Hashim,
Blancmange,
The Knickerbockers,
Essential Logic,
Todd Rundgren,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lower 48,
Arcadia,
Duran Duran,
Fear,
Godley & Creme,
Unwound,
The Dave Clark Five,
Robert Hood,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wings,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Avey Tare,
KRS-One,
Traffic Nightmare,
JFA,
Althea and Donna,
Josef K,
Neil Young,
Unrelated Segments,
The Mojo Men,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.