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 Pakistan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 The J.B.'s to the techno 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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
World's Most,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Byrd,
Warren Ellis,
Scrapy,
Visage,
Crispian St. Peters,
Underground Resistance,
Stiv Bators,
Sun City Girls,
Joy Division,
Howard Jones,
Monolake,
Easy Going,
the Bar-Kays,
Public Image Ltd.,
Andrew Hill,
Pantytec,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Parry Music,
Agitation Free,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fuzztones,
Jacob Miller,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rites of Spring,
The Flesh Eaters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scott Walker,
Faust,
The Vogues,
Symarip,
Kayak,
Sandy B,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Infiniti,
One Last Wish,
Dark Day,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yaz,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ralphi Rosario,
James White and The Blacks,
Lungfish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
David Axelrod,
Lyres,
Cameo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rod Modell,
Sonic Youth,
Kurtis Blow,
Matthew Halsall,
Boogie Down Productions,
Interpol,
The Walker Brothers,
Organ,
Soul II Soul,
Barry Ungar,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.