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 Armenia and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Black Bananas to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Arab on Radar,
Boz Scaggs,
Ohio Players,
Matthew Bourne,
Barry Ungar,
Charles Mingus,
Scratch Acid,
Audionom,
The Electric Prunes,
Lungfish,
Desert Stars,
Cymande,
Glambeats Corp.,
Siglo XX,
Saccharine Trust,
the Germs,
Hoover,
Lakeside,
Todd Rundgren,
Outsiders,
The Saints,
Vainqueur,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ten City,
Ultravox,
Oblivians,
A Certain Ratio,
The Skatalites,
Lee Hazlewood,
Niagra,
John Lydon,
Trumans Water,
the Soft Cell,
The Seeds,
Gabor Szabo,
Pierre Henry,
Grauzone,
Clear Light,
Index,
Monolake,
Oneida,
Eddi Front,
Brothers Johnson,
Mission of Burma,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Yazoo,
Jacques Brel,
Wally Richardson,
Mandrill,
Icehouse,
Robert Görl,
The Beau Brummels,
Unwound,
The Smoke,
Royal Trux,
Rapeman,
Supertramp,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dave Gahan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Remains,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.