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 Bulgaria and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Tropical Tobacco to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Sandy B,
The Invisible,
Crash Course in Science,
The Flesh Eaters,
Blossom Toes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Animal Collective,
Kas Product,
John Foxx,
Donald Byrd,
Main Source,
The Slits,
Camouflage,
Ornette Coleman,
Mary Jane Girls,
Panda Bear,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Monolake,
Simply Red,
Average White Band,
Mandrill,
One Last Wish,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fela Kuti,
Boogie Down Productions,
Scratch Acid,
Easy Going,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Circle Jerks,
The Index,
Sarah Menescal,
Con Funk Shun,
The Moody Blues,
Gang Green,
Judy Mowatt,
Marvin Gaye,
Saccharine Trust,
Pulsallama,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Normal,
Vainqueur,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deadbeat,
Half Japanese,
The Saints,
Soulsonic Force,
The Golliwogs,
Aloha Tigers,
The Beau Brummels,
Charles Mingus,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quantec,
Brand Nubian,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gastr Del Sol,
Chrome,
Al Stewart,
Make Up,
Amon Düül II,
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.