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 Barbados and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 James White and The Blacks to the crunk 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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Carl Craig,
Dennis Brown,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Motions,
Drexciya,
Lou Christie,
Subhumans,
June Days,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gabor Szabo,
Jacques Brel,
Ice-T,
Idris Muhammad,
Moby Grape,
Organ,
Soul II Soul,
Prince Buster,
Connie Case,
The Detroit Cobras,
cv313,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Chrome,
The Count Five,
Guru Guru,
Johnny Osbourne,
Althea and Donna,
Cluster,
Can,
The Blues Magoos,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Zapp,
Anakelly,
LL Cool J,
Leonard Cohen,
Bill Near,
Massinfluence,
The Alarm Clocks,
10cc,
This Heat,
Lakeside,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fad Gadget,
Scrapy,
Pussy Galore,
Angry Samoans,
Ludus,
Lungfish,
The Offenders,
Kerri Chandler,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rites of Spring,
Albert Ayler,
Marmalade,
K-Klass,
Bad Manners,
Quantec,
Average White Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tom Boy,
Camberwell Now,
Todd Terry,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.