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 Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Names to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and a harpsichord 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 marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
The Buckinghams,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eric Copeland,
Todd Rundgren,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Soft Cell,
the Germs,
Television Personalities,
Ultimate Spinach,
H. Thieme,
Anthony Braxton,
Mr. Review,
Sight & Sound,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Neon Judgement,
Bill Near,
Pierre Henry,
Sugar Minott,
Fat Boys,
Jawbox,
Ultravox,
Donald Byrd,
the Normal,
Tubeway Army,
Roger Hodgson,
Kerri Chandler,
New Age Steppers,
The Dead C,
Q65,
Morten Harket,
X-Ray Spex,
Tom Boy,
Y Pants,
Terry Callier,
The J.B.'s,
Johnny Osbourne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scott Walker,
Visage,
The Evens,
Yazoo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Davy DMX,
Nas,
Arthur Verocai,
Marvin Gaye,
Slick Rick,
The Beau Brummels,
Rotary Connection,
The Martian,
The Pop Group,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Amazonics,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Searchers,
Camouflage,
Quando Quango,
The Toasters,
Ponytail,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Buzzcocks,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.