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 Taiwan and from Mumbai.
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 Milan and Spokane.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Von Mondo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Skatalites 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 an arpeggiator and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Faust,
Ronan,
Suburban Knight,
Kayak,
Second Layer,
ABC,
Slick Rick,
Yellowson,
The Evens,
Tubeway Army,
John Holt,
Juan Atkins,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mission of Burma,
Joensuu 1685,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Associates,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sun Ra,
Rotary Connection,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Real Kids,
Flash Fearless,
The Skatalites,
The Vogues,
Oblivians,
Quadrant,
Ituana,
Eve St. Jones,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Five Americans,
The Fortunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultra Naté,
The Doobie Brothers,
Depeche Mode,
Graham Central Station,
The Seeds,
Maurizio,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Los Fastidios,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
E-Dancer,
Magma,
Marvin Gaye,
CMW,
Eric Dolphy,
Brick,
Wally Richardson,
The Happenings,
Black Bananas,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Quantec,
The Monks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kerrie Biddell,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Brand Nubian,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.