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 Austria and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Arthur Verocai to the grime 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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Crash Course in Science,
Slick Rick,
Gastr Del Sol,
Carl Craig,
Eric Copeland,
The Offenders,
Fela Kuti,
Peter & Gordon,
Public Enemy,
Shoche,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bill Wells,
Agent Orange,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Pretty Things,
Ultra Naté,
The Mojo Men,
Wire,
Connie Case,
The Star Department,
In Retrospect,
Kool Moe Dee,
Symarip,
Maleditus Sound,
Electric Prunes,
K-Klass,
Nirvana,
Mark Hollis,
The Raincoats,
Iggy Pop,
The Blues Magoos,
Nick Fraelich,
Pantytec,
The Selecter,
The Saints,
The Invisible,
The Dead C,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Parry Music,
Lungfish,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Yusef Lateef,
Pharoah Sanders,
Delta 5,
Rapeman,
Radio Birdman,
John Lydon,
Bauhaus,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Music Machine,
Y Pants,
Babytalk,
John Cale,
The Kinks,
The Sound,
Faust,
Crispian St. Peters,
Avey Tare,
Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp.
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.