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 Gabon and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Taipei.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Girls At Our Best! to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad 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 rap 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
The Monochrome Set,
John Coltrane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kayak,
Amazonics,
Boogie Down Productions,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Thompson Twins,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Sheep,
Schoolly D,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Reuben Wilson,
Man Parrish,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Terrestrial Tones,
Donald Byrd,
Sight & Sound,
Lalann,
PIL,
Sam Rivers,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Television,
Andrew Hill,
Lebanon Hanover,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bizarre Inc.,
Soulsonic Force,
Soul II Soul,
Ultra Naté,
Minutemen,
Marmalade,
Joy Division,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Cramps,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mr. Review,
Hot Snakes,
Dave Gahan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Freddie Wadling,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Young Marble Giants,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mary Jane Girls,
Morten Harket,
The Slits,
The Young Rascals,
Ponytail,
The Fire Engines,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mars,
Groovy Waters,
Susan Cadogan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Icehouse,
Shoche,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.