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 South Sudan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Sound,
Soul II Soul,
Tim Buckley,
Lower 48,
Boredoms,
Jandek,
Godley & Creme,
The Misunderstood,
Tomorrow,
Arab on Radar,
Lou Reed,
Joey Negro,
Parry Music,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jacob Miller,
The Fall,
June of 44,
Arthur Verocai,
Deepchord,
PIL,
Fela Kuti,
Henry Cow,
The Litter,
Wings,
The Invisible,
DJ Style,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crooked Eye,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fear,
Sparks,
Joe Finger,
Main Source,
the Human League,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Judy Mowatt,
Erasure,
Michelle Simonal,
The Human League,
Yellowson,
Cheater Slicks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marvin Gaye,
Alphaville,
Ituana,
Infiniti,
Stockholm Monsters,
Quadrant,
Rhythm & Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
The Motions,
kango's stein massive,
Drexciya,
The Dead C,
Black Flag,
Piero Umiliani,
Mantronix,
Zero Boys,
John Holt,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.