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 South Sudan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Kerri Chandler to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rapeman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
a-ha,
Panda Bear,
the Normal,
the Sonics,
Amon Düül,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sun City Girls,
Siglo XX,
Fat Boys,
Chris Corsano,
Michelle Simonal,
Skaos,
Throbbing Gristle,
Slick Rick,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Franke,
Sällskapet,
Kerrie Biddell,
Iggy Pop,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bronski Beat,
Ludus,
The Red Krayola,
Terry Callier,
Funkadelic,
Lebanon Hanover,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ornette Coleman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Pop Group,
The Angels of Light,
Wasted Youth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Funky Four + One,
Scan 7,
Lower 48,
Cecil Taylor,
The Associates,
Sun Ra,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Grey Daturas,
Mad Mike,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Altered Images,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fluxion,
Roxy Music,
the Swans,
Pere Ubu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Little Man,
Jeru the Damaja,
Albert Ayler,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Moody Blues,
Thee Headcoats,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.