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 Burkina and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Leaves to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Donny Hathaway,
Deepchord,
Altered Images,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rapeman,
The Remains,
The Martian,
cv313,
Gil Scott Heron,
Angry Samoans,
Scan 7,
Rekid,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eurythmics,
Fluxion,
T.S.O.L.,
Shuggie Otis,
Procol Harum,
The Monks,
Spandau Ballet,
Alison Limerick,
Eli Mardock,
Franke,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Circle Jerks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crispian St. Peters,
Masters at Work,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Colin Newman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Howard Jones,
K-Klass,
Infiniti,
The Seeds,
The Fugs,
The American Breed,
Harpers Bizarre,
La Düsseldorf,
Cecil Taylor,
Scientists,
CMW,
Mission of Burma,
Fat Boys,
Minutemen,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pantytec,
Thee Headcoats,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
F. McDonald,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sugar Minott,
The Pop Group,
Soul Sonic Force,
Albert Ayler,
Derrick May,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.