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 Bahamas and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar 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 Barclay James Harvest to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
FM Einheit,
Au Pairs,
Make Up,
Sparks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Mummies,
Kool Moe Dee,
Duran Duran,
The Dirtbombs,
Rakim,
The Moody Blues,
Deadbeat,
Yusef Lateef,
The Vogues,
Derrick Morgan,
Wolf Eyes,
Matthew Halsall,
Kenny Larkin,
K-Klass,
The Names,
Interpol,
The Count Five,
Livin' Joy,
Drexciya,
Bluetip,
Eric Dolphy,
Moby Grape,
Andrew Hill,
Metal Thangz,
Skaos,
Rosa Yemen,
Malaria!,
The Fall,
Agent Orange,
Erasure,
Arcadia,
Fad Gadget,
The Fugs,
Grandmaster Flash,
Man Parrish,
Arab on Radar,
The Residents,
Quando Quango,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mark Hollis,
Gong,
The Moleskins,
Hardrive,
Marshall Jefferson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Minutemen,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Remains,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Juan Atkins,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Half Japanese,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.