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 Belize and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 Pussy Galore to the disco 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Q and Not U,
Nils Olav,
Kurtis Blow,
Althea and Donna,
Bad Manners,
The Angels of Light,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marine Girls,
James White and The Blacks,
The Selecter,
Ultravox,
Inner City,
Moebius,
Cymande,
Accadde A,
Eden Ahbez,
Freddie Wadling,
Deepchord,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
ABC,
Ronnie Foster,
EPMD,
Rekid,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Beau Brummels,
Metal Thangz,
Sarah Menescal,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lungfish,
Ludus,
Fear,
Nirvana,
Altered Images,
Negative Approach,
Colin Newman,
Public Enemy,
June Days,
The Last Poets,
The Young Rascals,
The Smiths,
Letta Mbulu,
Judy Mowatt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Alice Coltrane,
Yaz,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sex Pistols,
Alton Ellis,
The Moleskins,
Minny Pops,
Dead Boys,
Make Up,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Iggy Pop,
Gabor Szabo,
Scrapy,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.