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 Seychelles and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 David Bowie to the crunk 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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dorothy Ashby,
Moss Icon,
The Selecter,
Unrelated Segments,
Mad Mike,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Gories,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Letta Mbulu,
Blake Baxter,
Lungfish,
Panda Bear,
Desert Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Make Up,
Quando Quango,
Crooked Eye,
The Names,
Bang On A Can,
Television,
Todd Rundgren,
Crispian St. Peters,
Suburban Knight,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Isaac Hayes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pussy Galore,
Yusef Lateef,
Donny Hathaway,
The Associates,
Monolake,
Dawn Penn,
The Fire Engines,
The Misunderstood,
Archie Shepp,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sun Ra,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Todd Terry,
The Star Department,
Andrew Hill,
Los Fastidios,
Zero Boys,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lalann,
The Mummies,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobby Womack,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Supertramp,
Negative Approach,
Colin Newman,
Scan 7,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Second Layer,
Scratch Acid,
Deepchord,
H. Thieme,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.