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 Singapore and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gerry Rafferty to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Los Fastidios,
Stiv Bators,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tropical Tobacco,
OOIOO,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Todd Terry,
Eric Dolphy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
MDC,
Rod Modell,
Reuben Wilson,
JFA,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Josef K,
The Knickerbockers,
Nick Fraelich,
Scott Walker,
The Selecter,
The United States of America,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Zeros,
T.S.O.L.,
Blancmange,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Quando Quango,
Yusef Lateef,
Royal Trux,
Cal Tjader,
Johnny Osbourne,
Michelle Simonal,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cecil Taylor,
Lou Christie,
Gang Green,
Arthur Verocai,
The Angels of Light,
Lee Hazlewood,
a-ha,
Au Pairs,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Normal,
Big Daddy Kane,
Monks,
Half Japanese,
Connie Case,
The Fire Engines,
the Association,
Joe Smooth,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Depeche Mode,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sugar Minott,
Wasted Youth,
Newcleus,
Lou Reed,
ABC,
Nik Kershaw,
Simply Red,
Blossom Toes,
The New Christs,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.