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 Tajikistan and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Von Mondo to the electroclash 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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
OOIOO,
Laurel Aitken,
Chris Corsano,
Don Cherry,
Camouflage,
Johnny Clarke,
the Germs,
The Divine Comedy,
The Five Americans,
Bizarre Inc.,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Banda Bassotti,
Stetsasonic,
Aaron Thompson,
These Immortal Souls,
The New Christs,
Maurizio,
Ludus,
Maleditus Sound,
Subhumans,
EPMD,
Oneida,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Camberwell Now,
X-101,
Frankie Knuckles,
X-102,
Pussy Galore,
Newcleus,
Eden Ahbez,
Letta Mbulu,
The Techniques,
Arab on Radar,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Neil Young,
Niagra,
Gang Green,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minny Pops,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Young Rascals,
Byron Stingily,
Spoonie Gee,
John Foxx,
Dead Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
Flamin' Groovies,
Zapp,
Deepchord,
Rapeman,
Gang of Four,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kas Product,
Second Layer,
Henry Cow,
Suicide,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.