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 Mexico and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 The Searchers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD 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?
Amon Düül,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Piero Umiliani,
Scratch Acid,
Gang of Four,
Rekid,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Chris Corsano,
Inner City,
Popol Vuh,
Peter and Kerry,
Alton Ellis,
Wally Richardson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
kango's stein massive,
The Mummies,
Arcadia,
Mark Hollis,
Yellowson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Happenings,
JFA,
Pole,
Davy DMX,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
David Bowie,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kenny Larkin,
The Offenders,
A Flock of Seagulls,
ABC,
Harry Pussy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lou Christie,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bill Near,
Lower 48,
Moebius,
Jacques Brel,
Country Teasers,
Electric Prunes,
Khruangbin,
The Kinks,
The Sound,
Man Parrish,
Minnie Riperton,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Knickerbockers,
Spandau Ballet,
X-101,
Roy Ayers,
Quantec,
Sonic Youth,
R.M.O.,
The Stooges,
James White and The Blacks,
Nick Fraelich,
Warsaw,
Dawn Penn,
Sun Ra,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.