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 Tonga 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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Charles Mingus to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Bad Manners,
Excepter,
Faust,
Fluxion,
The Fuzztones,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Swans,
Agent Orange,
Soft Cell,
Loose Ends,
The Move,
Dave Gahan,
Reuben Wilson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Anthony Braxton,
Procol Harum,
Hasil Adkins,
The Dirtbombs,
Crime,
Infiniti,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Monochrome Set,
The Moody Blues,
Country Teasers,
Funky Four + One,
La Düsseldorf,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Technova,
Sixth Finger,
Rufus Thomas,
Charles Mingus,
The Names,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Star Department,
Von Mondo,
Wings,
Archie Shepp,
OOIOO,
Pulsallama,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jerry's Kids,
Bronski Beat,
Kayak,
Fifty Foot Hose,
X-101,
Aaron Thompson,
Donny Hathaway,
Suicide,
Faraquet,
Vladislav Delay,
Swell Maps,
The Cowsills,
The Knickerbockers,
Sparks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eli Mardock,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.