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 Guinea-Bissau and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 DJ Sneak to the jazz 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
John Coltrane,
Chrome,
Delon & Dalcan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Shuggie Otis,
Skaos,
The Knickerbockers,
Letta Mbulu,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
K-Klass,
Donny Hathaway,
Sight & Sound,
The Star Department,
Sam Rivers,
Vladislav Delay,
Alton Ellis,
Warsaw,
Metal Thangz,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Gories,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Talk Talk,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Das Ding,
Mad Mike,
John Holt,
The Gladiators,
Grauzone,
Fela Kuti,
MDC,
The Divine Comedy,
Brass Construction,
Country Teasers,
Toni Rubio,
Matthew Bourne,
Urselle,
Maleditus Sound,
Altered Images,
Ten City,
Crime,
Roger Hodgson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Morten Harket,
Marshall Jefferson,
Carl Craig,
Angry Samoans,
Pantaleimon,
Pere Ubu,
Janne Schatter,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Pretty Things,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Television,
Fad Gadget,
Barrington Levy,
Surgeon,
Deadbeat,
The Neon Judgement,
Donald Byrd,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.