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 Solomon Islands and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Lou Christie to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Main Source,
The Vogues,
Howard Jones,
Marine Girls,
Gregory Isaacs,
Skarface,
Colin Newman,
Massinfluence,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Albert Ayler,
Arcadia,
Ronnie Foster,
Pylon,
The Smoke,
Aaron Thompson,
Anakelly,
Grauzone,
Sonny Sharrock,
Morten Harket,
Grey Daturas,
Soulsonic Force,
Zapp,
Reuben Wilson,
the Soft Cell,
June Days,
Sugar Minott,
Y Pants,
Mandrill,
Sun Ra,
Bill Near,
Lucky Dragons,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Camberwell Now,
The J.B.'s,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Half Japanese,
Circle Jerks,
Ludus,
Charles Mingus,
Faraquet,
Sixth Finger,
The Mummies,
Stockholm Monsters,
Robert Görl,
X-Ray Spex,
Brand Nubian,
Scion,
Malaria!,
Quando Quango,
Blossom Toes,
DJ Style,
Fluxion,
Pierre Henry,
Stetsasonic,
Smog,
Agitation Free,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Archie Shepp,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Association,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.