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 Chile and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Robert Wyatt to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
R.M.O.,
Wasted Youth,
Funky Four + One,
Ponytail,
Hasil Adkins,
Moss Icon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Nick Fraelich,
ABBA,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Infiniti,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nik Kershaw,
Chris & Cosey,
Newcleus,
Quando Quango,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lower 48,
Glenn Branca,
The Cramps,
Pantytec,
Darondo,
Derrick May,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Angels of Light,
Chris Corsano,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hardrive,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bang On A Can,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marmalade,
Slick Rick,
Toni Rubio,
Stockholm Monsters,
Metal Thangz,
China Crisis,
Urselle,
Severed Heads,
Quantec,
Dawn Penn,
Rod Modell,
Jawbox,
Roy Ayers,
Accadde A,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Young Rascals,
Camberwell Now,
Bill Near,
Sparks,
Von Mondo,
Main Source,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scan 7,
Tom Boy,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.