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 Equatorial Guinea and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the grime 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 Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
Kurtis Blow,
Ken Boothe,
Barrington Levy,
Excepter,
Unrelated Segments,
Con Funk Shun,
Juan Atkins,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Avey Tare,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
UT,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mandrill,
Cymande,
Josef K,
Silicon Teens,
U.S. Maple,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sun City Girls,
T. Rex,
Lungfish,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Moody Blues,
Y Pants,
Skriet,
The Tremeloes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Piero Umiliani,
The Moleskins,
Pere Ubu,
Simply Red,
Altered Images,
Scratch Acid,
Minnie Riperton,
Magma,
Sugar Minott,
The Durutti Column,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Smoke,
MDC,
Fear,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ronnie Foster,
H. Thieme,
Aural Exciters,
Charles Mingus,
Mad Mike,
Marc Almond,
Hoover,
Zero Boys,
Buzzcocks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rosa Yemen,
The J.B.'s,
The Offenders,
Banda Bassotti,
Bobby Sherman,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.