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 Finland and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Winnipeg.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Eric Dolphy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dave Clark Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Al Stewart,
Aswad,
Pere Ubu,
Joyce Sims,
The Stooges,
Grey Daturas,
Stetsasonic,
Section 25,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nils Olav,
The Pretty Things,
Hasil Adkins,
Rosa Yemen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eric B and Rakim,
Model 500,
The Barracudas,
Gichy Dan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fluxion,
The Real Kids,
Urselle,
New Order,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nirvana,
Peter & Gordon,
Unwound,
The Golliwogs,
Mad Mike,
Josef K,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fatback Band,
Clear Light,
Youth Brigade,
Cameo,
Black Moon,
Wings,
Isaac Hayes,
Minny Pops,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bluetip,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Blancmange,
The Zeros,
Bill Wells,
Goldenarms,
Drexciya,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
KRS-One,
Tomorrow,
Warsaw,
Scott Walker,
The Slackers,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Wake,
Bill Near,
Infiniti,
Talk Talk,
Crispian St. Peters,
Terry Callier,
The Divine Comedy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
David Bowie,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.