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 Malawi 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Black Bananas to the punk 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Massinfluence,
Sonic Youth,
The Trojans,
The Last Poets,
Loose Ends,
Ultimate Spinach,
Groovy Waters,
Nik Kershaw,
The Misunderstood,
Gregory Isaacs,
Al Stewart,
Andrew Hill,
Pierre Henry,
Letta Mbulu,
The Real Kids,
Young Marble Giants,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Henry Cow,
Laurel Aitken,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fall,
the Human League,
Nico,
Soul Sonic Force,
8 Eyed Spy,
Stetsasonic,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Negative Approach,
Popol Vuh,
Sandy B,
Agent Orange,
Black Flag,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Byron Stingily,
Howard Jones,
Anthony Braxton,
Erykah Badu,
Marine Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Adolescents,
Easy Going,
Spoonie Gee,
The Detroit Cobras,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Bar-Kays,
Nation of Ulysses,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Neon Judgement,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ronnie Foster,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Gun Club,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Shoche,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
A Certain Ratio,
The Victims,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.