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 Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 DJ Sneak to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sarah Menescal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Vladislav Delay,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Slackers,
Porter Ricks,
Girls At Our Best!,
OOIOO,
Marmalade,
Pole,
The Red Krayola,
Unrelated Segments,
Crime,
Fear,
Kayak,
Das Ding,
The Knickerbockers,
Mo-Dettes,
The Slits,
Harmonia,
June Days,
Matthew Halsall,
Surgeon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Archie Shepp,
Moebius,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
U.S. Maple,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Lalann,
Monks,
Bang On A Can,
Eden Ahbez,
Judy Mowatt,
Desert Stars,
Janne Schatter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dead Boys,
Kool Moe Dee,
Man Eating Sloth,
Symarip,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Smiths,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Excepter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Offenders,
Kevin Saunderson,
Radiopuhelimet,
48th St. Collective,
The Music Machine,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Motions,
Moby Grape,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Can,
Yusef Lateef,
Crash Course in Science,
Mars,
Index,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lou Reed,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.