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 Guinea and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fuzztones to the dance 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Bootsy Collins,
X-101,
Skaos,
John Coltrane,
Donald Byrd,
Black Sheep,
Zapp,
This Heat,
Duran Duran,
Gang Green,
Bill Wells,
Swans,
Scion,
Sarah Menescal,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Tremeloes,
The Monks,
The Grass Roots,
Radiopuhelimet,
L. Decosne,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Seeds,
JFA,
Pharoah Sanders,
Organ,
Iggy Pop,
Symarip,
The Evens,
Spoonie Gee,
Rufus Thomas,
The Mojo Men,
Cybotron,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Detroit Cobras,
Yazoo,
the Association,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gories,
DJ Style,
KRS-One,
Intrusion,
Bluetip,
Barbara Tucker,
The Martian,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fear,
Black Pus,
Suicide,
Negative Approach,
Michelle Simonal,
Wire,
Little Man,
Amazonics,
LL Cool J,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Section 25,
Simply Red,
Y Pants,
Ornette Coleman,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.