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 Korea North and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the electroclash 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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator 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 marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Vogues,
Scratch Acid,
James Chance & The Contortions,
These Immortal Souls,
Angry Samoans,
cv313,
Rod Modell,
Arab on Radar,
Kas Product,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Donald Byrd,
Reuben Wilson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Glambeats Corp.,
Barrington Levy,
Half Japanese,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Residents,
Ice-T,
Icehouse,
Minutemen,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fall,
Bobby Byrd,
Lakeside,
Gabor Szabo,
Radiohead,
Danielle Patucci,
Jacques Brel,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Popol Vuh,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eurythmics,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Victims,
Clear Light,
Cluster,
Byron Stingily,
Steve Hackett,
Lalo Schifrin,
DJ Style,
Black Pus,
Sugar Minott,
The Litter,
The Velvet Underground,
Scott Walker,
Boz Scaggs,
Todd Terry,
Intrusion,
Vladislav Delay,
The Star Department,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The United States of America,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Black Bananas,
Mars,
Eli Mardock,
Letta Mbulu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.