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 Portugal and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Rites of Spring to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Aloha Tigers,
Juan Atkins,
Minny Pops,
Popol Vuh,
Sällskapet,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rosa Yemen,
X-101,
The Fortunes,
Robert Görl,
Fela Kuti,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Robert Hood,
Rod Modell,
Joe Finger,
Gang Starr,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Joyce Sims,
Grauzone,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Motions,
Boz Scaggs,
La Düsseldorf,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Morten Harket,
Suicide,
Laurel Aitken,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ronan,
F. McDonald,
U.S. Maple,
Section 25,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lower 48,
The Raincoats,
Peter and Kerry,
Amazonics,
Das Ding,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fall,
AZ,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tres Demented,
Cheater Slicks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nico,
Isaac Hayes,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Gun Club,
Intrusion,
Barrington Levy,
T. Rex,
Model 500,
The Birthday Party,
Robert Wyatt,
Peter & Gordon,
Barbara Tucker,
Niagra,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.