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 Turkey and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Eric B and Rakim to the rap 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Fela Kuti,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Reuben Wilson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pantytec,
Sun Ra,
The Doobie Brothers,
Main Source,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
10cc,
The Dirtbombs,
Wings,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Khruangbin,
Mr. Review,
The Five Americans,
the Sonics,
Albert Ayler,
Pere Ubu,
Animal Collective,
Spoonie Gee,
Michelle Simonal,
Visage,
Bronski Beat,
Sonny Sharrock,
Todd Terry,
Excepter,
Scott Walker,
Black Flag,
Masters at Work,
Man Parrish,
Camouflage,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Livin' Joy,
In Retrospect,
The Busters,
Nation of Ulysses,
Warsaw,
Hashim,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobby Byrd,
Deakin,
The Fugs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Quando Quango,
Angry Samoans,
The Black Dice,
David McCallum,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
China Crisis,
Jawbox,
The Wake,
Quantec,
Clear Light,
Technova,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.