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 Mauritius and from Woodstock.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Alice Coltrane to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chris Corsano,
Little Man,
Pole,
Kayak,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Alarm Clocks,
Excepter,
Ronan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mandrill,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
cv313,
The Residents,
Iggy Pop,
Aural Exciters,
The Doors,
Darondo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eddi Front,
Minnie Riperton,
Soulsonic Force,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Durutti Column,
Negative Approach,
a-ha,
Godley & Creme,
Aaron Thompson,
Laurel Aitken,
Eve St. Jones,
Gang Green,
The Neon Judgement,
Skriet,
Man Parrish,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joe Finger,
John Coltrane,
Circle Jerks,
Grey Daturas,
Brand Nubian,
Joey Negro,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marc Almond,
Joyce Sims,
Marine Girls,
The Searchers,
Porter Ricks,
Cal Tjader,
Crime,
One Last Wish,
Black Pus,
Gong,
Symarip,
Kurtis Blow,
The American Breed,
Wolf Eyes,
Warsaw,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.