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 Montenegro and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Iggy Pop to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Icehouse,
John Lydon,
Bobby Womack,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cheater Slicks,
Freddie Wadling,
The Smiths,
Reuben Wilson,
Yazoo,
Talk Talk,
Duran Duran,
Average White Band,
Byron Stingily,
Moby Grape,
Underground Resistance,
David Bowie,
Khruangbin,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Doobie Brothers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Fugs,
Soft Cell,
Au Pairs,
Japan,
Dennis Brown,
Sonny Sharrock,
Babytalk,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Gories,
Nik Kershaw,
The Monks,
Angry Samoans,
Cameo,
Country Teasers,
The Saints,
David Axelrod,
Amon Düül,
Pierre Henry,
the Sonics,
Intrusion,
Jawbox,
Robert Hood,
LL Cool J,
Chris & Cosey,
The J.B.'s,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pulsallama,
Gang Starr,
Spoonie Gee,
Toni Rubio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jacques Brel,
Minutemen,
Funkadelic,
Kevin Saunderson,
Organ,
X-Ray Spex,
Ice-T,
Henry Cow,
Basic Channel,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.