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 Kiribati and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pierre Henry to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Mantronix,
Black Pus,
The Fugs,
Joe Smooth,
Ludus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fear,
U.S. Maple,
Lou Christie,
Symarip,
The Pretty Things,
Arab on Radar,
The Mummies,
The American Breed,
A Certain Ratio,
Lower 48,
Big Daddy Kane,
Average White Band,
Harry Pussy,
Rufus Thomas,
The Gap Band,
Junior Murvin,
Sparks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Doors,
Magma,
The Real Kids,
Eden Ahbez,
Shoche,
Surgeon,
Gabor Szabo,
Rites of Spring,
Radio Birdman,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Index,
Anakelly,
In Retrospect,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Association,
The Fuzztones,
John Lydon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Brass Construction,
the Soft Cell,
The Misunderstood,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Birthday Party,
B.T. Express,
The Modern Lovers,
Simply Red,
Suicide,
Bobby Womack,
Jeff Mills,
The Motions,
The Slackers,
The Beau Brummels,
John Coltrane,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.