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 Malaysia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Prince Buster to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Traffic Nightmare,
Aswad,
Pole,
Kaleidoscope,
Sun Ra,
Freddie Wadling,
Skaos,
The Sound,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crispy Ambulance,
FM Einheit,
Swans,
T. Rex,
Make Up,
OOIOO,
Bobby Byrd,
Lyres,
Stereo Dub,
John Lydon,
Cluster,
Tim Buckley,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
James White and The Blacks,
This Heat,
Porter Ricks,
Sight & Sound,
The Fuzztones,
X-101,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nico,
Joyce Sims,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ituana,
Lightning Bolt,
Easy Going,
DNA,
Severed Heads,
In Retrospect,
Albert Ayler,
Qualms,
Wire,
Fatback Band,
Harry Pussy,
These Immortal Souls,
Matthew Bourne,
Joe Smooth,
Crash Course in Science,
The Count Five,
New Order,
Blancmange,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Toasters,
Susan Cadogan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yellowson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marmalade,
Warsaw,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.