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 Botswana and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the funk 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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
The Invisible,
Animal Collective,
Nas,
Terrestrial Tones,
Girls At Our Best!,
Little Man,
Q65,
James White and The Blacks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Black Dice,
Andrew Hill,
Sex Pistols,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Monolake,
Pantaleimon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tomorrow,
Wally Richardson,
Faust,
Unwound,
Sixth Finger,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Deepchord,
Spoonie Gee,
Warren Ellis,
Lakeside,
Boogie Down Productions,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bauhaus,
KRS-One,
Agent Orange,
Easy Going,
Donald Byrd,
Intrusion,
Ten City,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yaz,
Black Bananas,
F. McDonald,
Pussy Galore,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Alton Ellis,
Flash Fearless,
R.M.O.,
Essential Logic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yellowson,
Jacob Miller,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brothers Johnson,
Maleditus Sound,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kas Product,
The Saints,
The Raincoats,
John Holt,
Gang Starr,
Blancmange,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.