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 Marshall Islands and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Soft Machine 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 UT. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nico,
Hoover,
Rosa Yemen,
Japan,
Moby Grape,
U.S. Maple,
Amazonics,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
D'Angelo,
Das Ding,
Monks,
Judy Mowatt,
the Bar-Kays,
Country Teasers,
Yusef Lateef,
Excepter,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Godley & Creme,
Harry Pussy,
Television,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Parry Music,
The Dave Clark Five,
Quantec,
Section 25,
Roxy Music,
Dead Boys,
Half Japanese,
Accadde A,
Zapp,
Joe Smooth,
Josef K,
Sound Behaviour,
Agitation Free,
the Normal,
Hashim,
Sandy B,
Carl Craig,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Clear Light,
Crime,
Con Funk Shun,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Goldenarms,
Khruangbin,
Theoretical Girls,
The United States of America,
Leonard Cohen,
Nick Fraelich,
H. Thieme,
The Neon Judgement,
June of 44,
ABBA,
Jeru the Damaja,
Robert Wyatt,
Crash Course in Science,
Ten City,
Gang Gang Dance,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.