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 Senegal and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the dance 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba 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 organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ice-T,
Kenny Larkin,
Gang Starr,
The Names,
Andrew Hill,
Donald Byrd,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Glenn Branca,
Stiv Bators,
Saccharine Trust,
Brass Construction,
Fear,
Suburban Knight,
Soulsonic Force,
Matthew Halsall,
Yaz,
Flamin' Groovies,
Oneida,
Bill Wells,
Marine Girls,
Barry Ungar,
Scott Walker,
Jeru the Damaja,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pantytec,
Excepter,
Joe Finger,
Wolf Eyes,
Sparks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Clear Light,
Oblivians,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cybotron,
DJ Sneak,
Rakim,
U.S. Maple,
Faust,
Moebius,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rhythm & Sound,
Model 500,
Roger Hodgson,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Stooges,
Fugazi,
Second Layer,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eric Copeland,
Tears for Fears,
Visage,
Moss Icon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Walker Brothers,
Zapp,
Cheater Slicks,
Qualms,
Desert Stars,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.