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 Spain and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Shoche,
One Last Wish,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kaleidoscope,
Junior Murvin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lalo Schifrin,
Das Ding,
Suicide,
Susan Cadogan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ornette Coleman,
Barbara Tucker,
John Holt,
The Alarm Clocks,
Malaria!,
Letta Mbulu,
Colin Newman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Beau Brummels,
ABBA,
Tim Buckley,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Robert Görl,
Morten Harket,
Scion,
The Flesh Eaters,
Symarip,
L. Decosne,
Ponytail,
Echospace,
Lalann,
MDC,
Laurel Aitken,
Spandau Ballet,
Rakim,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Eric Dolphy,
Eden Ahbez,
Zapp,
Hashim,
Tubeway Army,
Qualms,
Brand Nubian,
Gang Starr,
Faust,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Angels of Light,
Vladislav Delay,
Bobby Sherman,
Harry Pussy,
Brothers Johnson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roxy Music,
The Invisible,
Aloha Tigers,
John Coltrane,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.