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 Andorra and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 Mumbai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Symarip to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Khruangbin,
Gabor Szabo,
Severed Heads,
One Last Wish,
China Crisis,
Aloha Tigers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eden Ahbez,
Soft Cell,
Gang of Four,
Ronnie Foster,
Alice Coltrane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kaleidoscope,
Radio Birdman,
The Invisible,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Intrusion,
Joy Division,
ABC,
Parry Music,
Niagra,
Cameo,
Kayak,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Popol Vuh,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
OOIOO,
The Trojans,
Slave,
Nico,
Mark Hollis,
James White and The Blacks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ludus,
Easy Going,
Subhumans,
R.M.O.,
The Music Machine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Godley & Creme,
Jacques Brel,
Schoolly D,
Negative Approach,
Harmonia,
Sun City Girls,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Matthew Halsall,
Aaron Thompson,
Eddi Front,
The Mojo Men,
Donny Hathaway,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sound Behaviour,
The Sonics,
Marc Almond,
Sexual Harrassment,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.