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 Zambia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Hong Kong and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare 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 The United States of America to the techno 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
The Fuzztones,
Babytalk,
Stockholm Monsters,
Zero Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
Buzzcocks,
Fat Boys,
OOIOO,
Gregory Isaacs,
Josef K,
Avey Tare,
Flash Fearless,
Yaz,
Deadbeat,
Desert Stars,
Matthew Bourne,
Q and Not U,
Minnie Riperton,
Dead Boys,
Drexciya,
Gang of Four,
The Five Americans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lou Reed,
the Sonics,
Blake Baxter,
Jerry Gold Smith,
JFA,
Moebius,
The Pretty Things,
Pere Ubu,
Agent Orange,
Tom Boy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Camberwell Now,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Silicon Teens,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pharoah Sanders,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Stooges,
Althea and Donna,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Skatalites,
Steve Hackett,
The Modern Lovers,
Magma,
PIL,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Henry Cow,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wolf Eyes,
Aaron Thompson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Qualms,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Martian,
Half Japanese,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.