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 Guyana and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mark Hollis to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Boz Scaggs,
Theoretical Girls,
Gichy Dan,
Rapeman,
Marmalade,
LL Cool J,
Ultra Naté,
FM Einheit,
The Monks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
B.T. Express,
Cybotron,
Marshall Jefferson,
Q and Not U,
Gang Green,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Normal,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kevin Saunderson,
Massinfluence,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Toasters,
Lalann,
Sam Rivers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Harpers Bizarre,
Frankie Knuckles,
Parry Music,
Anakelly,
Jerry's Kids,
Outsiders,
The Gladiators,
Black Moon,
Roy Ayers,
The J.B.'s,
Duran Duran,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
New Order,
The Cure,
L. Decosne,
The Motions,
Loose Ends,
DNA,
Icehouse,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Idris Muhammad,
MC5,
Mandrill,
Nas,
Supertramp,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Grass Roots,
Robert Hood,
Jeff Lynne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Smiths,
Brick,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Smog,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.