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 Solomon Islands and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the jazz 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb 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 oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Basic Channel,
Technova,
Sun City Girls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Alison Limerick,
The Flesh Eaters,
Qualms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Malaria!,
Charles Mingus,
The Fortunes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Television,
Yazoo,
Donny Hathaway,
Jawbox,
DNA,
Kayak,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Skriet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crime,
Severed Heads,
Duran Duran,
X-101,
Pere Ubu,
The Remains,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gang of Four,
Soft Machine,
Black Moon,
Frankie Knuckles,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marshall Jefferson,
Motorama,
Tropical Tobacco,
ABBA,
Lightning Bolt,
Sixth Finger,
Ronan,
Man Parrish,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Invisible,
The Kinks,
Stockholm Monsters,
10cc,
Soft Cell,
Isaac Hayes,
The Slits,
Camberwell Now,
Drexciya,
Los Fastidios,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Pus,
The Smiths,
The Doors,
The Walker Brothers,
Iggy Pop,
Tubeway Army,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.