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 Nauru and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Crispy Ambulance to the electroclash 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mark Hollis,
Gastr Del Sol,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bob Dylan,
Agent Orange,
Gang Starr,
Susan Cadogan,
Symarip,
The Litter,
Juan Atkins,
Drexciya,
The Fire Engines,
Nirvana,
Jawbox,
Flipper,
Ponytail,
Harry Pussy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scion,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jeff Mills,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Blues Magoos,
LL Cool J,
Roxy Music,
Arthur Verocai,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Alarm Clocks,
Country Teasers,
Unwound,
PIL,
Aural Exciters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Trumans Water,
The Fuzztones,
Joensuu 1685,
Cameo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Sonics,
Marine Girls,
Soulsonic Force,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bush Tetras,
Eddi Front,
UT,
Nico,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rufus Thomas,
Tomorrow,
Dennis Brown,
Public Enemy,
Marshall Jefferson,
CMW,
DNA,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.