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 Congo and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Flamin' Groovies to the dance 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Roy Ayers,
Scrapy,
The Tremeloes,
Fluxion,
Ten City,
Alice Coltrane,
Lalo Schifrin,
Camouflage,
Carl Craig,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Association,
Magazine,
The Shadows of Knight,
Matthew Bourne,
The Residents,
The Invisible,
Crispy Ambulance,
Maurizio,
Newcleus,
Eric Copeland,
Cheater Slicks,
Funky Four + One,
F. McDonald,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Byrd,
Pulsallama,
The Saints,
The United States of America,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Urselle,
R.M.O.,
Fatback Band,
Chris Corsano,
Adolescents,
Gang of Four,
The Skatalites,
Jimmy McGriff,
Siglo XX,
Harmonia,
Wings,
the Slits,
This Heat,
Buzzcocks,
Inner City,
Avey Tare,
Sparks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
A Certain Ratio,
Kenny Larkin,
David Bowie,
Nico,
U.S. Maple,
Tim Buckley,
New Order,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Yazoo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roxy Music,
Eddi Front,
Matthew Halsall,
The Offenders,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
D'Angelo,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.