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 Israel and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 arpeggiator 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 Funky Four + One to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Eve St. Jones,
Duran Duran,
Amazonics,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Misunderstood,
Sun Ra,
Wally Richardson,
Fatback Band,
Blake Baxter,
Harmonia,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eddi Front,
Letta Mbulu,
The Monochrome Set,
Thompson Twins,
Aswad,
Second Layer,
Brick,
Sarah Menescal,
Johnny Clarke,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Thee Headcoats,
Jeff Mills,
Masters at Work,
Boz Scaggs,
Crispy Ambulance,
New York Dolls,
Minutemen,
Harry Pussy,
The Five Americans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Moody Blues,
Byron Stingily,
Nico,
The Count Five,
The Mojo Men,
Fluxion,
Skaos,
Swans,
Michelle Simonal,
the Swans,
The Sonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Smog,
The Raincoats,
The Star Department,
Faraquet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Slits,
Clear Light,
This Heat,
Peter & Gordon,
H. Thieme,
Bad Manners,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Franke,
Matthew Bourne,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.