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 Senegal and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Salvador.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Kurtis Blow to the electroclash 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pylon,
Television,
Talk Talk,
Traffic Nightmare,
DNA,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Bar-Kays,
Hashim,
The Velvet Underground,
Stetsasonic,
Crooked Eye,
Leonard Cohen,
Absolute Body Control,
The Moody Blues,
The Sonics,
Gang Green,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Misunderstood,
Byron Stingily,
Susan Cadogan,
Joey Negro,
Ken Boothe,
Lakeside,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gang of Four,
Anakelly,
Franke,
Adolescents,
Deepchord,
Albert Ayler,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Josef K,
F. McDonald,
Simply Red,
Robert Hood,
The Golliwogs,
DJ Style,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Invisible,
Cecil Taylor,
Eddi Front,
The Fall,
The J.B.'s,
Vainqueur,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Funkadelic,
Marc Almond,
The Walker Brothers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bob Dylan,
Crime,
Animal Collective,
The Knickerbockers,
The Remains,
Half Japanese,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.