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 Iran 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 OOIOO to the electroclash 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unrelated Segments,
The Cramps,
Audionom,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sandy B,
Eric Dolphy,
Marc Almond,
Popol Vuh,
Faust,
Outsiders,
The Doors,
June of 44,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Techniques,
Minnie Riperton,
The Star Department,
Eden Ahbez,
Isaac Hayes,
Sight & Sound,
Charles Mingus,
Newcleus,
These Immortal Souls,
Brothers Johnson,
AZ,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Q and Not U,
Gang of Four,
Chris Corsano,
Arthur Verocai,
Scratch Acid,
Khruangbin,
Donny Hathaway,
Brand Nubian,
Kurtis Blow,
Neu!,
Thee Headcoats,
Saccharine Trust,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Pretty Things,
The Misunderstood,
Lou Reed,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tom Boy,
The Slits,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Busters,
David Bowie,
The Tremeloes,
Lindisfarne,
Black Flag,
Dead Boys,
Moebius,
The Beau Brummels,
Gang Green,
Derrick Morgan,
Bad Manners,
Harry Pussy,
Blossom Toes,
The Mummies,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.