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 Zambia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Boogie Down Productions to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin 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 mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Misunderstood,
Gabor Szabo,
Jeff Mills,
Youth Brigade,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
AZ,
Dennis Brown,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Human League,
OOIOO,
The New Christs,
Ornette Coleman,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Blossom Toes,
Althea and Donna,
CMW,
Amazonics,
the Slits,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Severed Heads,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Hardrive,
Mantronix,
The Index,
Scion,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Electric Prunes,
The American Breed,
Magazine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Monks,
Barrington Levy,
Fear,
Ossler,
Black Bananas,
Bizarre Inc.,
Archie Shepp,
The Angels of Light,
Tommy Roe,
Boogie Down Productions,
Scrapy,
Royal Trux,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Blancmange,
Rotary Connection,
Reuben Wilson,
Unwound,
Kerrie Biddell,
Niagra,
The J.B.'s,
Talk Talk,
Boz Scaggs,
June Days,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.