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 Djibouti and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Marcia Griffiths to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Dead Boys,
Curtis Mayfield,
Arab on Radar,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pantaleimon,
The Beau Brummels,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The J.B.'s,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Selecter,
Scrapy,
Essential Logic,
Talk Talk,
The Sound,
Funkadelic,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Warsaw,
Reagan Youth,
Magazine,
Todd Rundgren,
The Names,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Siglo XX,
Brothers Johnson,
Leonard Cohen,
Infiniti,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pylon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Standells,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Germs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Black Dice,
Eddi Front,
Minutemen,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tom Boy,
China Crisis,
Scan 7,
Ornette Coleman,
Harmonia,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crispian St. Peters,
Icehouse,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Velvet Underground,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Blackbyrds,
Donny Hathaway,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rotary Connection,
Dual Sessions,
T.S.O.L.,
Zero Boys,
Skaos,
Sandy B,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.