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 South Africa and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pole to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
The Five Americans,
June Days,
The Buckinghams,
Black Sheep,
Minor Threat,
U.S. Maple,
Brand Nubian,
Deakin,
Ituana,
Tommy Roe,
Arab on Radar,
Swell Maps,
Don Cherry,
Joensuu 1685,
John Holt,
The Moody Blues,
Andrew Hill,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mandrill,
The Misunderstood,
Tubeway Army,
The Wake,
The Smoke,
The Gladiators,
D'Angelo,
Newcleus,
E-Dancer,
the Soft Cell,
Chris & Cosey,
48th St. Collective,
Shoche,
Gang Gang Dance,
Maleditus Sound,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lalo Schifrin,
Reuben Wilson,
Pagans,
Angry Samoans,
Fear,
Trumans Water,
Lungfish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Silicon Teens,
Flash Fearless,
Pharoah Sanders,
Camouflage,
Bob Dylan,
The Electric Prunes,
The Litter,
Radio Birdman,
Procol Harum,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fat Boys,
Jawbox,
Letta Mbulu,
Unrelated Segments,
David Axelrod,
The Kinks,
Janne Schatter,
Slave,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.