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 Palau and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Milan.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ 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 The Slackers to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sugar Minott,
Prince Buster,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Soft Cell,
E-Dancer,
Stiv Bators,
The Fall,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Darondo,
Blossom Toes,
Wire,
Aural Exciters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Vogues,
Radio Birdman,
World's Most,
Pulsallama,
Derrick May,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Q65,
Sight & Sound,
Nick Fraelich,
Rakim,
Scientists,
the Sonics,
Suicide,
DJ Style,
June Days,
Pylon,
Pagans,
Khruangbin,
Fluxion,
Cecil Taylor,
The United States of America,
The Invisible,
Amazonics,
Max Romeo,
Danielle Patucci,
Shoche,
La Düsseldorf,
L. Decosne,
Bluetip,
Television,
Rites of Spring,
Swell Maps,
Pussy Galore,
The Names,
Howard Jones,
Unrelated Segments,
Jesper Dahlback,
Make Up,
Warsaw,
Reuben Wilson,
Procol Harum,
Henry Cow,
Soul II Soul,
Tim Buckley,
Warren Ellis,
The Slackers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.