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 Chile and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Michael McDonald 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 Albert Ayler to the grunge 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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Ronnie Foster,
Symarip,
Absolute Body Control,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sam Rivers,
The Doors,
Schoolly D,
Popol Vuh,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wally Richardson,
Masters at Work,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nik Kershaw,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Susan Cadogan,
The Count Five,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bill Wells,
JFA,
Darondo,
Skaos,
X-Ray Spex,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sparks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Depeche Mode,
Kayak,
Sandy B,
Little Man,
Tommy Roe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Joyce Sims,
Pantytec,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Last Poets,
Al Stewart,
Agent Orange,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scratch Acid,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
La Düsseldorf,
Stiv Bators,
Interpol,
The Gladiators,
Sällskapet,
The Monks,
Dark Day,
Kerri Chandler,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Brand Nubian,
Das Ding,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ultra Naté,
The Toasters,
Suburban Knight,
James White and The Blacks,
Amon Düül II,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Can,
Marmalade,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.