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 Kenya and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 The Kinks to the rap 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Last Poets,
Jacob Miller,
Black Sheep,
Nick Fraelich,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fad Gadget,
The Count Five,
Pantaleimon,
Lindisfarne,
Cal Tjader,
Das Ding,
Livin' Joy,
The Grass Roots,
Howard Jones,
Animal Collective,
Barry Ungar,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Doors,
Unrelated Segments,
Nils Olav,
JFA,
The Detroit Cobras,
Khruangbin,
Fugazi,
Lalann,
Symarip,
Tropical Tobacco,
Blake Baxter,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
AZ,
Inner City,
The Busters,
Judy Mowatt,
The Names,
ABC,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Con Funk Shun,
Urselle,
The Wake,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lou Reed,
Au Pairs,
Second Layer,
KRS-One,
Malaria!,
Bobby Womack,
Massinfluence,
Cecil Taylor,
Quadrant,
Scrapy,
Deadbeat,
Ken Boothe,
Janne Schatter,
The Techniques,
Graham Central Station,
Rapeman,
Harry Pussy,
Hardrive,
The Walker Brothers,
Bluetip,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.