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 United Kingdom and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Reuben Wilson to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Make Up,
Glenn Branca,
Lou Christie,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Matthew Bourne,
Wolf Eyes,
Tubeway Army,
Interpol,
Oneida,
Porter Ricks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Procol Harum,
T. Rex,
Desert Stars,
Black Moon,
The United States of America,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Todd Terry,
Gichy Dan,
Sun City Girls,
Kerri Chandler,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Buzzcocks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Patti Smith,
Wings,
Colin Newman,
This Heat,
A Certain Ratio,
The Sonics,
Roy Ayers,
Soul II Soul,
John Holt,
K-Klass,
Nils Olav,
the Soft Cell,
Kerrie Biddell,
Au Pairs,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Red Krayola,
FM Einheit,
Danielle Patucci,
The Cowsills,
Laurel Aitken,
Grauzone,
Josef K,
Thompson Twins,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eric Copeland,
The Monks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Drexciya,
Hoover,
Funky Four + One,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Basic Channel,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.