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 Serbia and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 48th St. Collective to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Ludus,
Reagan Youth,
The Electric Prunes,
Bluetip,
Brand Nubian,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ornette Coleman,
the Sonics,
Barry Ungar,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Liliput,
The Pretty Things,
Nik Kershaw,
Radio Birdman,
Ultra Naté,
The Stooges,
Roxette,
Sonny Sharrock,
F. McDonald,
Fluxion,
Robert Hood,
Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Skriet,
Man Parrish,
The Mojo Men,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nirvana,
Eli Mardock,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Arcadia,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Bar-Kays,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Smiths,
Wolf Eyes,
Theoretical Girls,
The Cramps,
The Pop Group,
Wasted Youth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Isaac Hayes,
Chris & Cosey,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Urselle,
The Cure,
Minor Threat,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Aloha Tigers,
Yusef Lateef,
Agent Orange,
Bronski Beat,
Lightning Bolt,
Warren Ellis,
B.T. Express,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lou Christie,
Whodini,
JFA,
Kerri Chandler,
The Zeros,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.