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 Sudan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 theremin 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 Albert Ayler to the dance 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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes 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 sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fat Boys,
Angry Samoans,
Blancmange,
Sexual Harrassment,
Main Source,
The Mojo Men,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dual Sessions,
Henry Cow,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Heaven 17,
Warren Ellis,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
H. Thieme,
James White and The Blacks,
Pantytec,
Country Teasers,
The Stooges,
Lou Reed,
Todd Rundgren,
Peter and Kerry,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Popol Vuh,
Donald Byrd,
The Knickerbockers,
Subhumans,
Cluster,
Wolf Eyes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ken Boothe,
Ohio Players,
Severed Heads,
Scion,
The Tremeloes,
Ronan,
Darondo,
Lalo Schifrin,
John Lydon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Roy Ayers,
Camouflage,
Frankie Knuckles,
Don Cherry,
John Holt,
DNA,
Traffic Nightmare,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mr. Review,
June Days,
Dawn Penn,
Arthur Verocai,
Bill Near,
Niagra,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sound Behaviour,
The Trojans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.