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 Mauritius and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 Portland and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Names to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
Cymande,
Boogie Down Productions,
Severed Heads,
Ronan,
Maleditus Sound,
Siglo XX,
Quantec,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cheater Slicks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jeff Mills,
Gil Scott Heron,
Brick,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Red Krayola,
The American Breed,
Brand Nubian,
The Golliwogs,
Shuggie Otis,
Procol Harum,
Scrapy,
The Litter,
Reuben Wilson,
Sight & Sound,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alice Coltrane,
The Neon Judgement,
Talk Talk,
John Lydon,
Groovy Waters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Stooges,
The Fire Engines,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Birthday Party,
Los Fastidios,
Todd Terry,
Donald Byrd,
Robert Görl,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lou Christie,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Inner City,
Parry Music,
Ossler,
Drexciya,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Flag,
Rites of Spring,
Das Ding,
Fear,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang of Four,
Black Sheep,
Juan Atkins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Monks,
The Move,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.