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 Laos and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Moebius to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Roy Ayers,
The Tremeloes,
The Red Krayola,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Davy DMX,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Yazoo,
Funky Four + One,
Ronan,
Hot Snakes,
The Litter,
Gang Green,
Sandy B,
Amon Düül II,
Charles Mingus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Delta 5,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mandrill,
The Monks,
Crash Course in Science,
Zapp,
Mark Hollis,
Scientists,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Raincoats,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Slits,
June Days,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Babytalk,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Crispy Ambulance,
Minutemen,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Slick Rick,
Grey Daturas,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sun City Girls,
The Vogues,
Qualms,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bush Tetras,
Shuggie Otis,
Sarah Menescal,
Das Ding,
The Standells,
Con Funk Shun,
Public Enemy,
Marmalade,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Monks,
FM Einheit,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.