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 Austria and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar 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 The Moody Blues to the funk 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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Television Personalities,
Bluetip,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Unrelated Segments,
Funky Four + One,
U.S. Maple,
Jerry's Kids,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sex Pistols,
The Motions,
MDC,
Wasted Youth,
Crime,
the Association,
B.T. Express,
10cc,
Althea and Donna,
the Bar-Kays,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Alarm Clocks,
Icehouse,
The Last Poets,
Eve St. Jones,
The Shadows of Knight,
Judy Mowatt,
Pulsallama,
Sister Nancy,
Sarah Menescal,
Brass Construction,
Janne Schatter,
Hot Snakes,
The Music Machine,
Peter and Kerry,
Al Stewart,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
MC5,
Animal Collective,
Jeff Lynne,
Bobby Womack,
Aswad,
PIL,
Zapp,
The Saints,
World's Most,
Boredoms,
Piero Umiliani,
The Real Kids,
Wally Richardson,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Smiths,
The Pretty Things,
Scan 7,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Stereo Dub,
Pussy Galore,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.