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 Oman and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rufus Thomas to the techno 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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
The Fortunes,
The Black Dice,
John Coltrane,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Swans,
U.S. Maple,
Slave,
X-102,
Nick Fraelich,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Laurel Aitken,
La Düsseldorf,
Zapp,
Ultimate Spinach,
Camouflage,
The Human League,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Theoretical Girls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Second Layer,
Aural Exciters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Remains,
Fatback Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Neon Judgement,
Sonny Sharrock,
Oblivians,
Charles Mingus,
Marvin Gaye,
Ultra Naté,
The Selecter,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Altered Images,
Sonic Youth,
Gang Green,
Rakim,
H. Thieme,
Swans,
Das Ding,
Monks,
Echospace,
The Golliwogs,
JFA,
Lightning Bolt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Amazonics,
Porter Ricks,
Average White Band,
Ituana,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
48th St. Collective,
Idris Muhammad,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.