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 Seychelles and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Robert Wyatt to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Fugazi,
Aswad,
Popol Vuh,
Roxette,
Tomorrow,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nas,
Piero Umiliani,
Flipper,
Althea and Donna,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lungfish,
Ultra Naté,
Terry Callier,
Black Flag,
Procol Harum,
Crispian St. Peters,
Davy DMX,
Sun Ra,
Index,
Chris & Cosey,
Faraquet,
The Invisible,
New York Dolls,
Livin' Joy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nick Fraelich,
Make Up,
Pet Shop Boys,
Section 25,
Marcia Griffiths,
Amazonics,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bang On A Can,
Bob Dylan,
Godley & Creme,
The Sonics,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Alarm Clocks,
New Age Steppers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Monolake,
Joy Division,
The Busters,
John Coltrane,
Kurtis Blow,
Funkadelic,
Nico,
Radiopuhelimet,
Porter Ricks,
Heaven 17,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Warren Ellis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roxy Music,
Nirvana,
Robert Görl,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.