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 Italy and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe 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 Gang Starr to the funk 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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ohio Players,
Kayak,
Masters at Work,
Marine Girls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Piero Umiliani,
Wire,
Warren Ellis,
Accadde A,
Japan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
KRS-One,
Nico,
R.M.O.,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sparks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Anakelly,
Subhumans,
Pierre Henry,
Gong,
Rapeman,
Marvin Gaye,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ten City,
Beasts of Bourbon,
K-Klass,
Spoonie Gee,
Erykah Badu,
Dual Sessions,
Whodini,
Freddie Wadling,
Althea and Donna,
Black Moon,
Mary Jane Girls,
D'Angelo,
Main Source,
Robert Hood,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eli Mardock,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tres Demented,
Babytalk,
Sällskapet,
Black Pus,
Inner City,
Stiv Bators,
Darondo,
the Slits,
OOIOO,
Bobby Byrd,
X-101,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Altered Images,
B.T. Express,
Eurythmics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.