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 Antigua and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Suicide 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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
The Smiths,
Stetsasonic,
Don Cherry,
Outsiders,
Mr. Review,
R.M.O.,
Prince Buster,
Peter and Kerry,
Khruangbin,
Accadde A,
Sound Behaviour,
Derrick Morgan,
Dead Boys,
La Düsseldorf,
Newcleus,
Bobby Byrd,
Wolf Eyes,
Danielle Patucci,
Eric Dolphy,
Connie Case,
Animal Collective,
Ken Boothe,
Buzzcocks,
Oneida,
Drive Like Jehu,
Glambeats Corp.,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scientists,
Neil Young,
Nirvana,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Crash Course in Science,
Black Pus,
The Pretty Things,
Suicide,
Lungfish,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Barracudas,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scan 7,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Maurizio,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Donald Byrd,
Inner City,
Bill Near,
Kerri Chandler,
Excepter,
Bob Dylan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Half Japanese,
The Monks,
James White and The Blacks,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Sonics,
Eric B and Rakim,
ABBA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Skarface,
Vainqueur,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.