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 Botswana and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Throbbing Gristle to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
The Associates,
Cecil Taylor,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Severed Heads,
Das Ding,
The Wake,
Donald Byrd,
Organ,
The Doors,
Bad Manners,
Colin Newman,
Fear,
The Selecter,
Alice Coltrane,
Banda Bassotti,
The Smiths,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Big Daddy Kane,
Byron Stingily,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tres Demented,
Jawbox,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Clear Light,
Warsaw,
Matthew Halsall,
The Index,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mark Hollis,
Soul Sonic Force,
Altered Images,
Ituana,
The Gun Club,
Roxette,
Surgeon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ice-T,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arcadia,
Judy Mowatt,
KRS-One,
Section 25,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Yellowson,
Howard Jones,
Laurel Aitken,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
MC5,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yaz,
Dead Boys,
Tears for Fears,
Cameo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fugazi,
In Retrospect,
the Soft Cell,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.