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 Turkey and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Cal Tjader to the disco 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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?
The Last Poets,
the Fania All-Stars,
Severed Heads,
Can,
China Crisis,
Thompson Twins,
Slick Rick,
Grauzone,
Pharoah Sanders,
H. Thieme,
Howard Jones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rufus Thomas,
Sonny Sharrock,
Deadbeat,
The Moleskins,
Electric Prunes,
Sarah Menescal,
Minnie Riperton,
Visage,
Royal Trux,
Scion,
Todd Rundgren,
Main Source,
The Walker Brothers,
Sparks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Das Ding,
The Evens,
Mark Hollis,
Sun City Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Average White Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scrapy,
The Fugs,
Sixth Finger,
The Index,
Dennis Brown,
Derrick May,
The Happenings,
Glenn Branca,
Charles Mingus,
Shuggie Otis,
Intrusion,
Gerry Rafferty,
New York Dolls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Boredoms,
Fatback Band,
Bootsy Collins,
Fad Gadget,
Isaac Hayes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yusef Lateef,
Terry Callier,
Yellowson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Warsaw,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.