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 Australia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Main Source to the techno 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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Connie Case,
Boredoms,
The Mummies,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lou Christie,
Duran Duran,
Graham Central Station,
Freddie Wadling,
Byron Stingily,
Warren Ellis,
Pulsallama,
Camouflage,
Grauzone,
Eden Ahbez,
Alison Limerick,
Cymande,
Leonard Cohen,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Index,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gang of Four,
Danielle Patucci,
Wire,
Angry Samoans,
The Buckinghams,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Television Personalities,
Patti Smith,
Ponytail,
Subhumans,
KRS-One,
The Selecter,
Gang Starr,
Sonic Youth,
Radiohead,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marvin Gaye,
The Alarm Clocks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Amon Düül,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Popol Vuh,
Dawn Penn,
Arthur Verocai,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
David McCallum,
48th St. Collective,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scrapy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yusef Lateef,
Peter and Kerry,
Derrick May,
Masters at Work,
Skarface,
The Invisible,
Eve St. Jones,
The Neon Judgement,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Delon & Dalcan,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.