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 Jordan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fire Engines to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
X-Ray Spex,
UT,
Gang Starr,
Cecil Taylor,
The Modern Lovers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rekid,
Robert Hood,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Quadrant,
The Doors,
Heaven 17,
Jacob Miller,
Bobby Byrd,
Symarip,
Amazonics,
The Dead C,
Alison Limerick,
Godley & Creme,
the Fania All-Stars,
Funkadelic,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Boz Scaggs,
DJ Sneak,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Slackers,
Livin' Joy,
Aloha Tigers,
Harry Pussy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Invisible,
Donald Byrd,
Letta Mbulu,
Fatback Band,
Skarface,
Angry Samoans,
Faraquet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Stiv Bators,
Blake Baxter,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mark Hollis,
Eve St. Jones,
Rites of Spring,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
cv313,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wolf Eyes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Andrew Hill,
Ronan,
Trumans Water,
Arthur Verocai,
The Motions,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cal Tjader,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.