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 Georgia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Donald Byrd to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Sonny Sharrock,
Reuben Wilson,
The Names,
David Axelrod,
Toni Rubio,
Idris Muhammad,
Black Pus,
Gong,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
PIL,
The Litter,
Masters at Work,
JFA,
Porter Ricks,
Don Cherry,
The Gun Club,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wings,
Alison Limerick,
Silicon Teens,
Easy Going,
Roger Hodgson,
Aaron Thompson,
Amon Düül II,
Jeff Mills,
The Martian,
John Holt,
La Düsseldorf,
Cybotron,
Fear,
Das Ding,
Kenny Larkin,
Pantaleimon,
Scion,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
T.S.O.L.,
Gichy Dan,
E-Dancer,
Guru Guru,
Eve St. Jones,
Lakeside,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Brass Construction,
The Flesh Eaters,
China Crisis,
Liliput,
Traffic Nightmare,
Donald Byrd,
Severed Heads,
The Kinks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Althea and Donna,
Eric B and Rakim,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
CMW,
June Days,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jacob Miller,
The Selecter,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.