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 Andorra and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Graham Central Station to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Glenn Branca,
Agent Orange,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Depeche Mode,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Accadde A,
Royal Trux,
X-Ray Spex,
Gil Scott Heron,
Newcleus,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Chrome,
Byron Stingily,
The Move,
The Searchers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Intrusion,
Visage,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Janne Schatter,
Funky Four + One,
Arthur Verocai,
Cal Tjader,
Wally Richardson,
Wasted Youth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Absolute Body Control,
Robert Wyatt,
Avey Tare,
Roy Ayers,
The Blues Magoos,
Peter and Kerry,
Mars,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pulsallama,
Jesper Dahlback,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Camouflage,
Aswad,
Amon Düül,
Con Funk Shun,
Nas,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joyce Sims,
R.M.O.,
48th St. Collective,
B.T. Express,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Womack,
The Golliwogs,
Ituana,
Severed Heads,
EPMD,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
New Age Steppers,
La Düsseldorf,
Reagan Youth,
Unrelated Segments,
Japan,
Pussy Galore,
Babytalk,
Kerri Chandler,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.