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 Armenia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Brothers Johnson to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro 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 mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Velvet Underground,
Colin Newman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Drive Like Jehu,
Hardrive,
Curtis Mayfield,
X-102,
Clear Light,
Sugar Minott,
Cheater Slicks,
Hoover,
Terry Callier,
Easy Going,
The Young Rascals,
Harmonia,
Fugazi,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Chrome,
Moss Icon,
Delta 5,
Yaz,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Flash Fearless,
Stereo Dub,
The Litter,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mantronix,
Adolescents,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Music Machine,
Lou Christie,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sarah Menescal,
Bush Tetras,
Kenny Larkin,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Grandmaster Flash,
Slave,
Porter Ricks,
Theoretical Girls,
Joey Negro,
Accadde A,
The Sound,
Deepchord,
Davy DMX,
The Seeds,
Banda Bassotti,
The Pretty Things,
Thee Headcoats,
Brothers Johnson,
Arthur Verocai,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pantaleimon,
June Days,
FM Einheit,
Crash Course in Science,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.