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 Monaco and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Dawn Penn to the grunge 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Marcia Griffiths,
DNA,
Jacques Brel,
Grey Daturas,
DJ Sneak,
Pylon,
Young Marble Giants,
The Remains,
Scratch Acid,
Second Layer,
Ultimate Spinach,
Audionom,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eden Ahbez,
Half Japanese,
Goldenarms,
Wire,
The Music Machine,
Godley & Creme,
Absolute Body Control,
Vainqueur,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cheater Slicks,
Pierre Henry,
Wings,
Simply Red,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Victims,
Nils Olav,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Connie Case,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Leaves,
EPMD,
Darondo,
Chris & Cosey,
Stockholm Monsters,
Michelle Simonal,
Cecil Taylor,
the Germs,
The Toasters,
Suicide,
Aswad,
The Fuzztones,
Angry Samoans,
Lucky Dragons,
Rakim,
Parry Music,
Spoonie Gee,
The Buckinghams,
Traffic Nightmare,
Urselle,
Brothers Johnson,
Excepter,
Con Funk Shun,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.