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 Tuvalu and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 theremin 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 Donald Byrd to the jazz 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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
Circle Jerks,
Kas Product,
The Angels of Light,
Mission of Burma,
Masters at Work,
The Monks,
Half Japanese,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Harpers Bizarre,
Interpol,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soft Machine,
Sight & Sound,
Nation of Ulysses,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Flag,
Minnie Riperton,
Guru Guru,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Suicide,
Con Funk Shun,
Tropical Tobacco,
Average White Band,
Main Source,
Ornette Coleman,
Motorama,
Peter and Kerry,
Marmalade,
Desert Stars,
X-Ray Spex,
Royal Trux,
The Index,
The Last Poets,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Black Bananas,
Clear Light,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
10cc,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bob Dylan,
David McCallum,
Wolf Eyes,
Peter & Gordon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
DJ Style,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dawn Penn,
Kenny Larkin,
Pussy Galore,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Offenders,
Sun Ra,
Spoonie Gee,
Inner City,
Saccharine Trust,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.