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 Croatia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 rhodes 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 Black Moon to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes 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 chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Shuggie Otis,
Sound Behaviour,
The Dead C,
Roxette,
David Bowie,
Barry Ungar,
Desert Stars,
The Gun Club,
B.T. Express,
Cluster,
Tomorrow,
Bizarre Inc.,
Josef K,
Todd Terry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lower 48,
Bill Wells,
Chris & Cosey,
Scrapy,
The Knickerbockers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Technova,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Fugs,
Little Man,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jandek,
Yazoo,
Jeff Lynne,
The Pop Group,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Clear Light,
Half Japanese,
Letta Mbulu,
Rotary Connection,
Popol Vuh,
Bang On A Can,
Index,
World's Most,
Donald Byrd,
Monks,
Nico,
Skriet,
The Five Americans,
The Gap Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cal Tjader,
Skaos,
The Dave Clark Five,
Barclay James Harvest,
Don Cherry,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Birthday Party,
Johnny Clarke,
the Slits,
Television,
The Martian,
Oblivians,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.