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 Saudi Arabia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Ornette Coleman to the disco 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Fugazi,
The Dead C,
Aaron Thompson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sister Nancy,
Robert Wyatt,
L. Decosne,
The Searchers,
Scratch Acid,
Reuben Wilson,
Nick Fraelich,
The Skatalites,
Camberwell Now,
Susan Cadogan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pagans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bush Tetras,
The Flesh Eaters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
AZ,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Talk Talk,
Smog,
The Misunderstood,
Deadbeat,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang Starr,
Liliput,
Index,
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Moon,
John Lydon,
Duran Duran,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Yaz,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joy Division,
Wings,
Janne Schatter,
Cluster,
Neil Young,
Idris Muhammad,
Gabor Szabo,
Porter Ricks,
Magma,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bluetip,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobby Sherman,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Yusef Lateef,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nico,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Minor Threat,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.