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 Somalia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 oboe 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 The Doobie Brothers to the dance 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Faust 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 rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Cure,
T.S.O.L.,
Yazoo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Saints,
A Certain Ratio,
Tres Demented,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Radio Birdman,
Public Image Ltd.,
Newcleus,
E-Dancer,
Bizarre Inc.,
New York Dolls,
The Barracudas,
Audionom,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tomorrow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Underground Resistance,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Trojans,
Joy Division,
The Doobie Brothers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Litter,
Das Ding,
Bob Dylan,
The Invisible,
F. McDonald,
David McCallum,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Scratch Acid,
The Gun Club,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Donny Hathaway,
Unrelated Segments,
Steve Hackett,
Scientists,
Soulsonic Force,
Neil Young,
Groovy Waters,
Kerri Chandler,
The Victims,
Robert Wyatt,
Wally Richardson,
Flipper,
KRS-One,
Outsiders,
Piero Umiliani,
Severed Heads,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Country Teasers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
ABBA,
The Angels of Light,
Suburban Knight,
Pagans,
ABC,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.