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 Dominican Republic and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Joy Division to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Anakelly,
China Crisis,
Eric Dolphy,
Blake Baxter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bootsy Collins,
In Retrospect,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Man Parrish,
Mantronix,
Ultravox,
ABBA,
John Coltrane,
Second Layer,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scrapy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Index,
The Selecter,
Babytalk,
Thompson Twins,
La Düsseldorf,
Bad Manners,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eric Copeland,
Radio Birdman,
Aloha Tigers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Delta 5,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Electric Prunes,
The Music Machine,
Letta Mbulu,
These Immortal Souls,
The Pretty Things,
Reagan Youth,
Sexual Harrassment,
Agitation Free,
Deakin,
Isaac Hayes,
Crooked Eye,
Smog,
The Doobie Brothers,
Alice Coltrane,
The Pop Group,
Juan Atkins,
Vladislav Delay,
Half Japanese,
Adolescents,
Roger Hodgson,
Hasil Adkins,
Janne Schatter,
the Bar-Kays,
ABC,
Television,
The Dave Clark Five,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.