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 Tuvalu and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 rhodes 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Maleditus Sound,
Boredoms,
Metal Thangz,
Alton Ellis,
Barrington Levy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rites of Spring,
Mad Mike,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ronan,
The Fugs,
Royal Trux,
Rufus Thomas,
Parry Music,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gichy Dan,
Zapp,
Schoolly D,
Masters at Work,
Kevin Saunderson,
Half Japanese,
Piero Umiliani,
Delta 5,
Cameo,
The Durutti Column,
Pagans,
The Fuzztones,
Magma,
The J.B.'s,
The Star Department,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Buzzcocks,
Index,
Hot Snakes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Barbara Tucker,
The Dead C,
Brothers Johnson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Soft Cell,
Danielle Patucci,
Suburban Knight,
Todd Terry,
Idris Muhammad,
Nils Olav,
Jeff Mills,
Massinfluence,
Neil Young,
The Zeros,
Sällskapet,
The Beau Brummels,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pussy Galore,
The Sonics,
Negative Approach,
Anthony Braxton,
Marc Almond,
Babytalk,
Dark Day,
Bad Manners,
Cybotron,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.