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 Slovenia and from New York.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 B.T. Express 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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum 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 mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Bill Wells,
Soft Machine,
Erykah Badu,
Kayak,
Accadde A,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pharoah Sanders,
Neil Young,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nico,
Todd Terry,
JFA,
The Fuzztones,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gories,
Harmonia,
Pussy Galore,
Pet Shop Boys,
Goldenarms,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Standells,
Brick,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tres Demented,
Mars,
Lungfish,
Black Bananas,
Eric Copeland,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Mojo Men,
Youth Brigade,
Yusef Lateef,
Sex Pistols,
Donald Byrd,
Lalann,
Joy Division,
Alphaville,
The Doobie Brothers,
New Order,
L. Decosne,
The Martian,
Can,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Trojans,
Funky Four + One,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fugazi,
Soul II Soul,
Sun City Girls,
Ronnie Foster,
Swans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
B.T. Express,
Yellowson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gastr Del Sol,
Supertramp,
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.