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 Argentina and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Mumbai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Radiohead to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and a mellotron 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 snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Pantytec,
Black Flag,
Lou Christie,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Delta 5,
Radiopuhelimet,
One Last Wish,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cecil Taylor,
Terry Callier,
Stockholm Monsters,
Stiv Bators,
Animal Collective,
The Music Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Alphaville,
Freddie Wadling,
Minnie Riperton,
The Selecter,
The Black Dice,
Godley & Creme,
The Divine Comedy,
The Smiths,
Subhumans,
Spandau Ballet,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kerri Chandler,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Vogues,
Reagan Youth,
The Gap Band,
Deadbeat,
Sandy B,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Evens,
Colin Newman,
Icehouse,
The Cure,
Letta Mbulu,
Depeche Mode,
Black Sheep,
Yazoo,
The Red Krayola,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Underground Resistance,
Soft Cell,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Tremeloes,
Pussy Galore,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rites of Spring,
Robert Wyatt,
Bronski Beat,
Eve St. Jones,
Faraquet,
X-102,
Pharoah Sanders,
Country Teasers,
The Raincoats,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.