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 Armenia and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sam Rivers to the dance 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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Shoche,
Wings,
Hot Snakes,
the Sonics,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Piero Umiliani,
Howard Jones,
Stiv Bators,
Fear,
Quantec,
John Holt,
Surgeon,
Monolake,
Minutemen,
Beasts of Bourbon,
DNA,
Sixth Finger,
Josef K,
Dual Sessions,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
ABC,
Moss Icon,
Stereo Dub,
Byron Stingily,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marcia Griffiths,
Reagan Youth,
The Slits,
R.M.O.,
the Human League,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cal Tjader,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fela Kuti,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Big Daddy Kane,
U.S. Maple,
Spoonie Gee,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arcadia,
The Mummies,
Sun City Girls,
Sun Ra,
Reuben Wilson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
DJ Sneak,
Black Bananas,
Harpers Bizarre,
Adolescents,
Q65,
Oblivians,
Tropical Tobacco,
Basic Channel,
EPMD,
Slave,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Derrick May,
Funky Four + One,
The Remains,
Massinfluence,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.