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 Taiwan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Andrew Hill to the electroclash 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
U.S. Maple,
Crash Course in Science,
The Techniques,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gories,
The Sonics,
The Residents,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rapeman,
Suburban Knight,
The Smiths,
The Smoke,
The Dirtbombs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sight & Sound,
The Vogues,
Flipper,
Newcleus,
the Slits,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bobby Sherman,
Deakin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Danielle Patucci,
Barrington Levy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
DNA,
The Detroit Cobras,
The New Christs,
The Birthday Party,
Moebius,
The Doors,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lightning Bolt,
Neu!,
Bronski Beat,
June of 44,
Excepter,
Reuben Wilson,
Model 500,
Jeru the Damaja,
Whodini,
Maurizio,
The Grass Roots,
X-102,
Magazine,
The Red Krayola,
Slave,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Last Poets,
Rakim,
The Fuzztones,
Big Daddy Kane,
Anthony Braxton,
Terrestrial Tones,
Make Up,
Warren Ellis,
Trumans Water,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Henry Cow,
Wally Richardson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.