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 Samoa and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Spokane.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 June Days to the crunk 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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 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 harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Davy DMX,
The Monks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
F. McDonald,
Quando Quango,
Bobby Womack,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Metal Thangz,
Lungfish,
Scion,
The Count Five,
Joey Negro,
Average White Band,
The Mojo Men,
Bronski Beat,
The Human League,
Grauzone,
Depeche Mode,
Sam Rivers,
Cal Tjader,
Guru Guru,
Essential Logic,
Brass Construction,
Ken Boothe,
Talk Talk,
Unwound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Invisible,
DJ Sneak,
Arab on Radar,
Sun Ra,
Livin' Joy,
Accadde A,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lucky Dragons,
Sarah Menescal,
The Modern Lovers,
Chris Corsano,
Ice-T,
The Walker Brothers,
The Happenings,
Sister Nancy,
Byron Stingily,
Sight & Sound,
Erasure,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Pus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Chris & Cosey,
The Sound,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Suburban Knight,
T.S.O.L.,
Gregory Isaacs,
Excepter,
Niagra,
Donald Byrd,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.