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 Suriname and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Anthony Braxton 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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive 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?
Tom Boy,
Amazonics,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Maleditus Sound,
JFA,
Simply Red,
Althea and Donna,
The Smoke,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Offenders,
Das Ding,
The Red Krayola,
Schoolly D,
Thee Headcoats,
Goldenarms,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Star Department,
Fad Gadget,
John Coltrane,
Pantaleimon,
Lou Christie,
Zapp,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Robert Wyatt,
The Pretty Things,
Ohio Players,
Tears for Fears,
Echospace,
Crime,
Outsiders,
Black Moon,
The Birthday Party,
Gang Gang Dance,
Chris Corsano,
Lyres,
Index,
Kerrie Biddell,
H. Thieme,
Gong,
Oblivians,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Morten Harket,
Bush Tetras,
Underground Resistance,
A Certain Ratio,
The Stooges,
KRS-One,
Urselle,
Peter and Kerry,
Leonard Cohen,
The Happenings,
Moss Icon,
Guru Guru,
The J.B.'s,
The Evens,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scratch Acid,
Lakeside,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.