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 Vietnam and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 snare 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 Royal Trux to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Adolescents,
The Last Poets,
The Smoke,
Anthony Braxton,
Clear Light,
Tears for Fears,
Marmalade,
The Misunderstood,
Cameo,
The Pretty Things,
The United States of America,
Lyres,
Laurel Aitken,
Letta Mbulu,
Agent Orange,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Smog,
Leonard Cohen,
The Victims,
The Busters,
The Sound,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cowsills,
Jawbox,
PIL,
Barrington Levy,
Ludus,
Inner City,
X-101,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Simply Red,
Peter and Kerry,
Index,
Fad Gadget,
The Dirtbombs,
FM Einheit,
La Düsseldorf,
The Gap Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lower 48,
Fear,
Joensuu 1685,
Byron Stingily,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Technova,
Freddie Wadling,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jacob Miller,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joyce Sims,
Iggy Pop,
Skaos,
Eric B and Rakim,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Masters at Work,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sparks,
Livin' Joy,
The Moleskins,
David Axelrod,
Massinfluence,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.