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 Cameroon and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Shuggie Otis to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warren Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Max Romeo,
The Martian,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Unrelated Segments,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kurtis Blow,
Hasil Adkins,
Nik Kershaw,
Aswad,
Anthony Braxton,
Peter & Gordon,
Negative Approach,
The Red Krayola,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Morten Harket,
Marmalade,
Symarip,
Deepchord,
Nils Olav,
8 Eyed Spy,
Roger Hodgson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jacob Miller,
The Real Kids,
Aural Exciters,
Scan 7,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ultra Naté,
Lakeside,
Dual Sessions,
Janne Schatter,
Blake Baxter,
Tommy Roe,
Mo-Dettes,
Piero Umiliani,
Electric Prunes,
Quadrant,
The Gap Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scratch Acid,
Pussy Galore,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Litter,
Arthur Verocai,
The Seeds,
The Fire Engines,
Stereo Dub,
Bob Dylan,
Animal Collective,
Gang Green,
Tubeway Army,
Eurythmics,
Eric Dolphy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Young Rascals,
Ludus,
Cymande,
The Mojo Men,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.