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 East Timor and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 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 Erasure to the grime 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Aswad,
Nils Olav,
The Trojans,
Wolf Eyes,
Boredoms,
Chris Corsano,
Cymande,
The Motions,
Joe Finger,
Reuben Wilson,
Cybotron,
Circle Jerks,
Procol Harum,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Man Parrish,
Tomorrow,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Dirtbombs,
Idris Muhammad,
Lakeside,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Toasters,
The Skatalites,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roxette,
Rekid,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Victims,
The Searchers,
Excepter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rotary Connection,
The Count Five,
Marine Girls,
Eden Ahbez,
The Misunderstood,
the Association,
Nas,
The Sound,
Prince Buster,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sam Rivers,
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Womack,
Ultra Naté,
Roy Ayers,
Swans,
Crash Course in Science,
Scientists,
Bang On A Can,
Quantec,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crispian St. Peters,
LL Cool J,
Fatback Band,
Mars,
Juan Atkins,
Carl Craig,
Derrick Morgan,
Smog,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.