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 Uruguay 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum 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 Anthony Braxton to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Barry Ungar,
Harmonia,
Nik Kershaw,
Monks,
U.S. Maple,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eric B and Rakim,
Chris Corsano,
Black Sheep,
Crooked Eye,
Marc Almond,
The Tremeloes,
The Gun Club,
Lakeside,
The Neon Judgement,
Connie Case,
Inner City,
Country Teasers,
Max Romeo,
Ossler,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Soul II Soul,
Eden Ahbez,
Second Layer,
John Coltrane,
Lou Reed,
The Evens,
E-Dancer,
Wasted Youth,
Von Mondo,
The Pretty Things,
Barrington Levy,
Aloha Tigers,
Aswad,
The Mojo Men,
The Index,
Cybotron,
The Star Department,
Siglo XX,
The Dirtbombs,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roy Ayers,
Spandau Ballet,
Sex Pistols,
Heaven 17,
Tim Buckley,
Y Pants,
Robert Hood,
Subhumans,
Porter Ricks,
The Names,
The Barracudas,
Eurythmics,
Ludus,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Glenn Branca,
UT,
Rites of Spring,
Cymande,
Drexciya,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.