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 Yemen and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro 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 David McCallum to the grunge 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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
10cc,
Unwound,
Dark Day,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marcia Griffiths,
Whodini,
T. Rex,
Metal Thangz,
Janne Schatter,
Talk Talk,
Urselle,
Boz Scaggs,
The Misunderstood,
Ten City,
ABC,
Soft Machine,
John Foxx,
The Cowsills,
Erasure,
L. Decosne,
Man Parrish,
Young Marble Giants,
Wings,
PIL,
Ralphi Rosario,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Glambeats Corp.,
Crash Course in Science,
Derrick May,
Cymande,
Gang Starr,
Crispian St. Peters,
Moby Grape,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cecil Taylor,
Mandrill,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Technova,
The Trojans,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fire Engines,
Arab on Radar,
This Heat,
Black Pus,
Junior Murvin,
Laurel Aitken,
The Cramps,
Bluetip,
Vainqueur,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Real Kids,
Main Source,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Monks,
Tommy Roe,
EPMD,
Negative Approach,
Loose Ends,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Drive Like Jehu,
Quantec,
The Evens,
The J.B.'s,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.