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 Azerbaijan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Ice-T to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All PIL 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet 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 sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DJ Style,
Arthur Verocai,
Nick Fraelich,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gang of Four,
Infiniti,
Cluster,
Pharoah Sanders,
Inner City,
T.S.O.L.,
Nas,
Joy Division,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Davy DMX,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Evens,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dead Boys,
Mars,
The Beau Brummels,
Audionom,
Talk Talk,
Fela Kuti,
The Pretty Things,
Vainqueur,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Harry Pussy,
The Buckinghams,
The Mojo Men,
Metal Thangz,
Black Bananas,
Television Personalities,
Popol Vuh,
Echospace,
The Tremeloes,
JFA,
Lindisfarne,
Patti Smith,
Sugar Minott,
Tears for Fears,
Crime,
Juan Atkins,
Arcadia,
the Normal,
Lou Christie,
Ken Boothe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Average White Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Isaac Hayes,
Prince Buster,
L. Decosne,
Matthew Bourne,
Scratch Acid,
Gichy Dan,
Accadde A,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.