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 Maldives and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Black Dice to the grunge 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet 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 snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Babytalk,
The Monochrome Set,
Mantronix,
Tim Buckley,
Fugazi,
The Leaves,
Shoche,
Eden Ahbez,
The Angels of Light,
Marmalade,
DNA,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Yazoo,
Hoover,
The Black Dice,
Blake Baxter,
Vladislav Delay,
Crash Course in Science,
OOIOO,
Jandek,
Masters at Work,
Y Pants,
Parry Music,
Basic Channel,
Electric Prunes,
The Moody Blues,
E-Dancer,
Black Flag,
LL Cool J,
Sandy B,
Bobby Sherman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Second Layer,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Godley & Creme,
Tomorrow,
Icehouse,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Chrome,
Das Ding,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sex Pistols,
Donny Hathaway,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
David Axelrod,
Brick,
Arab on Radar,
AZ,
Eddi Front,
the Fania All-Stars,
Magma,
Dead Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
Unwound,
Lucky Dragons,
The United States of America,
The Index,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gang Gang Dance,
James White and The Blacks,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.