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 Slovenia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MC5,
Mission of Burma,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The United States of America,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alphaville,
Derrick May,
Fat Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
Junior Murvin,
John Coltrane,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rapeman,
Lightning Bolt,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Normal,
The Dirtbombs,
Shuggie Otis,
Grey Daturas,
Archie Shepp,
Scan 7,
Reuben Wilson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Amon Düül,
kango's stein massive,
Blossom Toes,
F. McDonald,
Motorama,
Faraquet,
DJ Style,
The Flesh Eaters,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gap Band,
Althea and Donna,
Mr. Review,
Erasure,
The Names,
Organ,
Bad Manners,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Foxx,
Jeff Mills,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Stetsasonic,
Danielle Patucci,
Siglo XX,
Oblivians,
Fugazi,
Smog,
Tears for Fears,
Fela Kuti,
Idris Muhammad,
Swans,
Soulsonic Force,
Marshall Jefferson,
Terry Callier,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.