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 Haiti and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Maleditus Sound to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a sitar 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 spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
DJ Sneak,
Ronnie Foster,
EPMD,
Kool Moe Dee,
Minutemen,
Absolute Body Control,
Cybotron,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Smog,
Althea and Donna,
MC5,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Quantec,
New York Dolls,
Eddi Front,
Eden Ahbez,
F. McDonald,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Procol Harum,
Con Funk Shun,
Second Layer,
KRS-One,
Nick Fraelich,
Nik Kershaw,
Goldenarms,
Suicide,
Deakin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Q and Not U,
Bootsy Collins,
The Victims,
Pagans,
Eric B and Rakim,
La Düsseldorf,
Fluxion,
Grey Daturas,
LL Cool J,
Youth Brigade,
Sex Pistols,
The Wake,
Sister Nancy,
Albert Ayler,
Television,
The Monks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pole,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cal Tjader,
Mark Hollis,
Silicon Teens,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Animal Collective,
Robert Hood,
Skriet,
The Index,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lou Reed,
Johnny Clarke,
Howard Jones,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.