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 Bulgaria and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Parry Music,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rekid,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Moby Grape,
The Red Krayola,
Peter and Kerry,
Albert Ayler,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Second Layer,
Slick Rick,
Scion,
Kayak,
The Stooges,
Crooked Eye,
OOIOO,
Section 25,
The Star Department,
Jeru the Damaja,
David Axelrod,
Sam Rivers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Au Pairs,
The Standells,
Wasted Youth,
Tres Demented,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Oblivians,
Black Flag,
Fatback Band,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Victims,
Henry Cow,
The Mummies,
Groovy Waters,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Television Personalities,
the Bar-Kays,
T. Rex,
DJ Style,
One Last Wish,
Maurizio,
Pharoah Sanders,
Flash Fearless,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sex Pistols,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Bananas,
Con Funk Shun,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rites of Spring,
The Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
The Trojans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joe Finger,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gastr Del Sol,
Roy Ayers,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.