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 France and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Supertramp to the funk 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Moss Icon,
June Days,
Sandy B,
Crime,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eric Dolphy,
Glenn Branca,
Qualms,
The Barracudas,
Matthew Halsall,
Skaos,
The Human League,
Swell Maps,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Searchers,
Underground Resistance,
The Kinks,
Eve St. Jones,
Isaac Hayes,
Flash Fearless,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Iggy Pop,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Alarm Clocks,
Peter & Gordon,
Blake Baxter,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Essential Logic,
Boredoms,
Funkadelic,
Eurythmics,
James White and The Blacks,
The Monochrome Set,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Walker Brothers,
Colin Newman,
The United States of America,
Cecil Taylor,
Porter Ricks,
Arthur Verocai,
Cybotron,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Oneida,
Sam Rivers,
Echospace,
Ultimate Spinach,
Joy Division,
Wire,
Barbara Tucker,
Sex Pistols,
Gang Gang Dance,
10cc,
Monolake,
Country Joe & The Fish,
MDC,
Agitation Free,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Minor Threat,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.