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 Pakistan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the crunk 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle 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?
Royal Trux,
Bush Tetras,
Stetsasonic,
The Durutti Column,
Ice-T,
Franke,
The Doobie Brothers,
Minnie Riperton,
Quantec,
Malaria!,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Duran Duran,
The Beau Brummels,
Icehouse,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dave Gahan,
The Sound,
MDC,
Suicide,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tres Demented,
Terry Callier,
The Knickerbockers,
Hot Snakes,
The Martian,
Alison Limerick,
Nick Fraelich,
James White and The Blacks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Sonics,
Alton Ellis,
Pantaleimon,
Trumans Water,
The Trojans,
Eden Ahbez,
Man Parrish,
Babytalk,
Susan Cadogan,
Guru Guru,
Aswad,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rakim,
Simply Red,
Vainqueur,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sugar Minott,
Wasted Youth,
Jacob Miller,
Theoretical Girls,
Juan Atkins,
Sight & Sound,
Nirvana,
Black Sheep,
Todd Terry,
PIL,
Ludus,
Jandek,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Television,
The Walker Brothers,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.