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 Netherlands and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Soft Machine to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a synthesizer 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 güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
The Names,
Q65,
Ice-T,
Brothers Johnson,
Darondo,
Arthur Verocai,
Donald Byrd,
The Doobie Brothers,
Hasil Adkins,
Henry Cow,
June of 44,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rakim,
The Real Kids,
The Misunderstood,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fela Kuti,
Warsaw,
Suburban Knight,
Livin' Joy,
Eli Mardock,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Golliwogs,
Reagan Youth,
The Fugs,
The Vogues,
Brand Nubian,
Duran Duran,
Mad Mike,
Intrusion,
Parry Music,
Roxy Music,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pierre Henry,
Barrington Levy,
Faust,
Funkadelic,
Essential Logic,
Gang of Four,
Zapp,
Average White Band,
Tubeway Army,
The Fortunes,
Vainqueur,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nico,
Second Layer,
The Buckinghams,
Steve Hackett,
The Techniques,
Chrome,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
X-Ray Spex,
Nick Fraelich,
One Last Wish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The United States of America,
Dorothy Ashby,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.