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 Turkey and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the crunk 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Lyres,
Wally Richardson,
Pole,
R.M.O.,
Fugazi,
Subhumans,
The American Breed,
The Vogues,
Max Romeo,
The Techniques,
Roxy Music,
Unwound,
Derrick May,
Brothers Johnson,
Aswad,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ultra Naté,
CMW,
Can,
Derrick Morgan,
Marvin Gaye,
Intrusion,
The Searchers,
Heaven 17,
Guru Guru,
Kurtis Blow,
Quadrant,
Drexciya,
Monolake,
Schoolly D,
The Slackers,
Jimmy McGriff,
New Age Steppers,
Godley & Creme,
Essential Logic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Music Machine,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Peter and Kerry,
Lungfish,
Charles Mingus,
Eric Copeland,
Deepchord,
Suicide,
Tommy Roe,
Television,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Flag,
Dorothy Ashby,
Reagan Youth,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Sound,
Jawbox,
Masters at Work,
The Gun Club,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Newcleus,
The Residents,
Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd..
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.