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 Equatorial Guinea and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Frankie Knuckles to the rock 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
Harry Pussy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Freddie Wadling,
The Shadows of Knight,
Warsaw,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Dead C,
Flash Fearless,
Arthur Verocai,
Max Romeo,
Ronnie Foster,
June of 44,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hot Snakes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Delon & Dalcan,
Amazonics,
Soft Machine,
Monolake,
Thee Headcoats,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Danielle Patucci,
The Grass Roots,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bill Wells,
Boz Scaggs,
Aswad,
Ludus,
Lower 48,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kurtis Blow,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Maleditus Sound,
Blancmange,
Agent Orange,
Cal Tjader,
Tom Boy,
Niagra,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fat Boys,
Althea and Donna,
Johnny Clarke,
Mandrill,
Jeff Lynne,
Pantaleimon,
Smog,
Kerri Chandler,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Pus,
Joe Smooth,
Barrington Levy,
Minor Threat,
The Mojo Men,
The Buckinghams,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.