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 Korea South and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lyon.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 United States of America to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum 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 rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
The Detroit Cobras,
K-Klass,
Robert Hood,
The J.B.'s,
Jacques Brel,
The Last Poets,
The Buckinghams,
Flipper,
Warsaw,
La Düsseldorf,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
John Foxx,
Country Teasers,
Piero Umiliani,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cal Tjader,
Television,
Supertramp,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pulsallama,
Graham Central Station,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Echospace,
The Electric Prunes,
The Pretty Things,
Make Up,
The Sonics,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Litter,
Scientists,
Procol Harum,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Skatalites,
The Black Dice,
Aaron Thompson,
Royal Trux,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Little Man,
The Monochrome Set,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ken Boothe,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sister Nancy,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Sherman,
Jimmy McGriff,
Terry Callier,
The Searchers,
Organ,
The Durutti Column,
Eric B and Rakim,
Laurel Aitken,
Rosa Yemen,
Michelle Simonal,
8 Eyed Spy,
Hashim,
Swans,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.