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 Jordan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 Tom Boy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Moebius,
The Doors,
Nick Fraelich,
Minor Threat,
Aaron Thompson,
Dual Sessions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Terry Callier,
The Blues Magoos,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
EPMD,
Scott Walker,
Blake Baxter,
Scrapy,
Boz Scaggs,
Blossom Toes,
the Bar-Kays,
June of 44,
Judy Mowatt,
Boredoms,
Underground Resistance,
Theoretical Girls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mad Mike,
The Fuzztones,
Scratch Acid,
Sun City Girls,
Crispian St. Peters,
DNA,
The Happenings,
Slick Rick,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lindisfarne,
Alphaville,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Coltrane,
Little Man,
Monolake,
Pantaleimon,
These Immortal Souls,
Los Fastidios,
Robert Hood,
Piero Umiliani,
Hardrive,
Qualms,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
X-102,
The Fall,
FM Einheit,
Patti Smith,
The Sound,
Sandy B,
Funky Four + One,
Eddi Front,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Main Source,
Rotary Connection,
Kayak,
Sexual Harrassment,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.