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 Venezuela and from Tehran.
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 Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar 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 H. Thieme to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Au Pairs,
Whodini,
Arthur Verocai,
Severed Heads,
Laurel Aitken,
Tubeway Army,
The J.B.'s,
Moss Icon,
Eden Ahbez,
Scan 7,
The Index,
Eric B and Rakim,
This Heat,
The Golliwogs,
Howard Jones,
D'Angelo,
Roxy Music,
Yazoo,
The Dead C,
The United States of America,
Ponytail,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tres Demented,
Jerry's Kids,
Angry Samoans,
Dual Sessions,
Organ,
Aloha Tigers,
Crime,
The Fortunes,
Pantaleimon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kerri Chandler,
Eli Mardock,
Don Cherry,
Sonic Youth,
Bob Dylan,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eurythmics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Saccharine Trust,
Sex Pistols,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pole,
Eve St. Jones,
Siglo XX,
Lightning Bolt,
Fluxion,
Eddi Front,
Man Eating Sloth,
Johnny Clarke,
Barbara Tucker,
Jacob Miller,
the Normal,
Mo-Dettes,
the Soft Cell,
Scrapy,
Black Flag,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.