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 Algeria and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Popol Vuh to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Barclay James Harvest,
Laurel Aitken,
Kas Product,
KRS-One,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dead Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
The Techniques,
The Slackers,
Eden Ahbez,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brass Construction,
Harry Pussy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Joensuu 1685,
Zero Boys,
The Standells,
PIL,
Amon Düül II,
Dark Day,
Tommy Roe,
Saccharine Trust,
Malaria!,
Sexual Harrassment,
Goldenarms,
Guru Guru,
Ultimate Spinach,
Junior Murvin,
D'Angelo,
Avey Tare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Buzzcocks,
Unrelated Segments,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ten City,
Silicon Teens,
Gong,
Minny Pops,
Tropical Tobacco,
Schoolly D,
Ohio Players,
Letta Mbulu,
Wolf Eyes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Scrapy,
Skriet,
Byron Stingily,
Lower 48,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pussy Galore,
Aural Exciters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Donny Hathaway,
Roxette,
Radiohead,
the Slits,
Matthew Bourne,
Don Cherry,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.