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 Egypt and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 DJ Sneak to the grunge 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Eve St. Jones,
The Smiths,
Piero Umiliani,
Joensuu 1685,
Neu!,
Tim Buckley,
Deadbeat,
Hoover,
Fela Kuti,
John Coltrane,
Tomorrow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fat Boys,
K-Klass,
Jacob Miller,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Oblivians,
The Saints,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
John Lydon,
Buzzcocks,
UT,
Mark Hollis,
Scan 7,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DJ Sneak,
Fear,
T. Rex,
Eurythmics,
Scrapy,
Prince Buster,
Con Funk Shun,
The Birthday Party,
F. McDonald,
Susan Cadogan,
Radiohead,
Slave,
The Cramps,
Altered Images,
Connie Case,
David McCallum,
Harpers Bizarre,
Soft Machine,
Eric Dolphy,
The Toasters,
Blancmange,
Tommy Roe,
Blossom Toes,
Joy Division,
Judy Mowatt,
Pierre Henry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Goldenarms,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lalo Schifrin,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Junior Murvin,
Rufus Thomas,
Eli Mardock,
The Slackers,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.