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 Netherlands and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Nas to the jazz 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 The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Clear Light,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
a-ha,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Reed,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Easy Going,
Lakeside,
Niagra,
Talk Talk,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bauhaus,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Slick Rick,
Thee Headcoats,
Traffic Nightmare,
These Immortal Souls,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Velvet Underground,
Toni Rubio,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang of Four,
Kayak,
Skriet,
Wasted Youth,
the Soft Cell,
R.M.O.,
Ultra Naté,
Audionom,
F. McDonald,
The Zeros,
The Alarm Clocks,
Average White Band,
Ten City,
Excepter,
Deadbeat,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Warsaw,
EPMD,
Dawn Penn,
Colin Newman,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Beau Brummels,
Aloha Tigers,
The Angels of Light,
Tom Boy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Robert Görl,
Monks,
Newcleus,
Mr. Review,
Reuben Wilson,
Shuggie Otis,
Joyce Sims,
DNA,
Lalann,
K-Klass,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.