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 Guyana and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Boredoms to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Doobie Brothers,
Black Moon,
Minutemen,
Joyce Sims,
China Crisis,
Funky Four + One,
New York Dolls,
Robert Görl,
The Gories,
Shoche,
Agent Orange,
Warsaw,
Aural Exciters,
The Techniques,
Amazonics,
Andrew Hill,
Barbara Tucker,
Bang On A Can,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gil Scott Heron,
Stockholm Monsters,
Susan Cadogan,
Slave,
Dorothy Ashby,
Matthew Bourne,
The Litter,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Slits,
The Sound,
DNA,
Icehouse,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Unrelated Segments,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Don Cherry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sound Behaviour,
Spoonie Gee,
Sparks,
Scrapy,
Donny Hathaway,
Pole,
Unwound,
Scratch Acid,
Chrome,
Nik Kershaw,
Radio Birdman,
Bill Near,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fire Engines,
Rites of Spring,
FM Einheit,
The Martian,
Gang Green,
Byron Stingily,
Second Layer,
Alice Coltrane,
Kool Moe Dee,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.