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 Ethiopia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 rock 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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord 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 a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
R.M.O.,
The Fire Engines,
Lungfish,
X-102,
Howard Jones,
Idris Muhammad,
Arthur Verocai,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mark Hollis,
Country Teasers,
10cc,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pantytec,
Inner City,
Scan 7,
Spoonie Gee,
The Pretty Things,
Delta 5,
Yusef Lateef,
Byron Stingily,
Scrapy,
Marc Almond,
The Knickerbockers,
AZ,
Reagan Youth,
Niagra,
Marmalade,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Loose Ends,
Vainqueur,
Q and Not U,
Anakelly,
Pere Ubu,
The Gun Club,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joensuu 1685,
Aloha Tigers,
the Slits,
Chrome,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Magma,
Fat Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
a-ha,
One Last Wish,
Cecil Taylor,
Amon Düül II,
The Dave Clark Five,
Radio Birdman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Donald Byrd,
Gang of Four,
Shoche,
Erykah Badu,
Desert Stars,
Nico,
Blake Baxter,
Sight & Sound,
Fad Gadget,
Hot Snakes,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.