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 Guinea and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the rap 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
The Divine Comedy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lindisfarne,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rufus Thomas,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Moebius,
Joe Smooth,
The Red Krayola,
Roxette,
Brand Nubian,
Q and Not U,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun Ra,
Kenny Larkin,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang Green,
D'Angelo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Radio Birdman,
Qualms,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Fania All-Stars,
K-Klass,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Funkadelic,
Henry Cow,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Stooges,
Drive Like Jehu,
Peter & Gordon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Judy Mowatt,
David Bowie,
F. McDonald,
Section 25,
Mission of Burma,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cybotron,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
L. Decosne,
David McCallum,
Yaz,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lalo Schifrin,
John Lydon,
kango's stein massive,
The Smoke,
The Fuzztones,
Gabor Szabo,
Essential Logic,
Surgeon,
Severed Heads,
Crispy Ambulance,
Main Source,
Roy Ayers,
One Last Wish,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cal Tjader,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.