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 Austria and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Eric Dolphy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Barclay James Harvest,
Arthur Verocai,
Cheater Slicks,
Popol Vuh,
Quando Quango,
The Last Poets,
Blake Baxter,
Bootsy Collins,
The Black Dice,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Sonics,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jandek,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marshall Jefferson,
Anakelly,
Johnny Clarke,
The Raincoats,
Eric Copeland,
Pantaleimon,
Idris Muhammad,
Janne Schatter,
KRS-One,
Lucky Dragons,
Dead Boys,
Sam Rivers,
Swans,
Thee Headcoats,
Television,
The Sonics,
Y Pants,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Adolescents,
Nas,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Skriet,
The Barracudas,
Pagans,
Lindisfarne,
The Music Machine,
Crime,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Crooked Eye,
Goldenarms,
Vladislav Delay,
Hoover,
Inner City,
X-102,
Isaac Hayes,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kaleidoscope,
Sight & Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Brass Construction,
Blancmange,
Fat Boys,
The Fugs,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.