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 Samoa and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 John Coltrane to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders 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?
Bobby Womack,
Sällskapet,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tres Demented,
Sixth Finger,
Pharoah Sanders,
Albert Ayler,
Japan,
Mo-Dettes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Excepter,
Agent Orange,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Desert Stars,
John Cale,
Pulsallama,
Niagra,
B.T. Express,
The Martian,
Wolf Eyes,
Suicide,
Bang On A Can,
Cluster,
Skarface,
The Happenings,
Flipper,
Fear,
Bob Dylan,
Matthew Halsall,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Whodini,
K-Klass,
The Flesh Eaters,
Funkadelic,
The Raincoats,
Roxy Music,
L. Decosne,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Aswad,
The Moleskins,
Eric B and Rakim,
David McCallum,
Silicon Teens,
Traffic Nightmare,
Blake Baxter,
Magma,
Banda Bassotti,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bootsy Collins,
Cybotron,
Popol Vuh,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fat Boys,
Severed Heads,
The Stooges,
Public Enemy,
Amazonics,
The Real Kids,
Lakeside,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rosa Yemen,
Bronski Beat,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.