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 Jamaica and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Big Daddy Kane to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare 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 arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Blossom Toes,
Danielle Patucci,
Lalo Schifrin,
Newcleus,
Frankie Knuckles,
Donny Hathaway,
Fluxion,
Cybotron,
The Tremeloes,
Absolute Body Control,
Zero Boys,
Alton Ellis,
The Fugs,
Slave,
The Associates,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rekid,
Wasted Youth,
Ossler,
Freddie Wadling,
Idris Muhammad,
Bang On A Can,
Glenn Branca,
D'Angelo,
The Misunderstood,
Sunsets and Hearts,
DJ Style,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Crime,
Sly & The Family Stone,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Velvet Underground,
UT,
The Fire Engines,
Zapp,
Eric B and Rakim,
Inner City,
Sonic Youth,
the Soft Cell,
Brothers Johnson,
The Human League,
The Young Rascals,
Severed Heads,
Popol Vuh,
Fad Gadget,
Cymande,
H. Thieme,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang Starr,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rites of Spring,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Michelle Simonal,
The Busters,
Infiniti,
Ken Boothe,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tropical Tobacco,
Juan Atkins,
Bootsy Collins,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.