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 Croatia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Man Eating Sloth to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Glenn Branca,
Ultra Naté,
Clear Light,
Kenny Larkin,
The New Christs,
Model 500,
Jerry's Kids,
Q and Not U,
Jeff Mills,
Lalann,
Au Pairs,
Laurel Aitken,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hot Snakes,
The Vogues,
Trumans Water,
Letta Mbulu,
Pussy Galore,
Sound Behaviour,
Isaac Hayes,
Godley & Creme,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Moon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dark Day,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mark Hollis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barbara Tucker,
Siglo XX,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Pop Group,
Absolute Body Control,
Gabor Szabo,
The Mojo Men,
The Fuzztones,
Thee Headcoats,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Dead C,
the Slits,
Von Mondo,
Excepter,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sexual Harrassment,
Junior Murvin,
Derrick May,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Pretty Things,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Magma,
Spandau Ballet,
The Index,
the Fania All-Stars,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Metal Thangz,
John Cale,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Carl Craig,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.