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 Papua New Guinea and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Symarip to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yusef Lateef,
Main Source,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Andrew Hill,
Aaron Thompson,
cv313,
Throbbing Gristle,
Negative Approach,
AZ,
June Days,
Pole,
Little Man,
The Angels of Light,
Moby Grape,
T.S.O.L.,
Susan Cadogan,
Sun Ra,
Kenny Larkin,
Panda Bear,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minutemen,
Josef K,
Roxette,
Lindisfarne,
Chrome,
Kas Product,
Henry Cow,
Intrusion,
Soulsonic Force,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Oneida,
Michelle Simonal,
Anthony Braxton,
Skriet,
the Normal,
The Dirtbombs,
The Divine Comedy,
Half Japanese,
Deakin,
The Skatalites,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Spoonie Gee,
David Bowie,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Television,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ponytail,
Tommy Roe,
The Kinks,
Swell Maps,
Kaleidoscope,
Roy Ayers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Outsiders,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tim Buckley,
Delta 5,
H. Thieme,
Alphaville,
Stiv Bators,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.