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 Mauritania and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Faust to the grime 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb 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 organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
DNA,
Erasure,
Reuben Wilson,
The Pop Group,
The Divine Comedy,
The Associates,
Moebius,
Prince Buster,
The Remains,
Malaria!,
Ronan,
Black Pus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Hardrive,
Iggy Pop,
Ultimate Spinach,
Massinfluence,
Cymande,
Fad Gadget,
The Barracudas,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Gap Band,
Toni Rubio,
Subhumans,
Camberwell Now,
The Kinks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Niagra,
Das Ding,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lou Christie,
Alison Limerick,
Donny Hathaway,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Dead C,
Don Cherry,
Rosa Yemen,
Royal Trux,
Electric Prunes,
The Fall,
Hashim,
Radiohead,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Khruangbin,
Al Stewart,
Ossler,
Liliput,
Barry Ungar,
Buzzcocks,
The Leaves,
The Electric Prunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lungfish,
Mo-Dettes,
Leonard Cohen,
Tom Boy,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.