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 Zimbabwe and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
FM Einheit,
Carl Craig,
Essential Logic,
John Foxx,
Amon Düül,
Prince Buster,
Surgeon,
Skaos,
Jandek,
Eden Ahbez,
Jacques Brel,
Theoretical Girls,
Arthur Verocai,
Bob Dylan,
The Durutti Column,
CMW,
Crooked Eye,
Gang Starr,
Malaria!,
the Normal,
Ludus,
Archie Shepp,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Byrd,
Duran Duran,
Kevin Saunderson,
Unrelated Segments,
Boz Scaggs,
The Neon Judgement,
The Techniques,
Minutemen,
Crime,
Swell Maps,
The Searchers,
Marine Girls,
The Human League,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Spandau Ballet,
T. Rex,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bobby Womack,
Pere Ubu,
David Bowie,
Hoover,
Kerri Chandler,
The Wake,
Bizarre Inc.,
Wally Richardson,
Donald Byrd,
Electric Prunes,
The Skatalites,
Ituana,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Fortunes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pagans,
The Remains,
Monks,
Blancmange,
Bill Wells,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.