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 Samoa and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Max Romeo to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Gang Green,
The Music Machine,
Colin Newman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pole,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Popol Vuh,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eve St. Jones,
Bobby Womack,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Minor Threat,
The Wake,
The Invisible,
Throbbing Gristle,
Altered Images,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Warren Ellis,
Television Personalities,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Funkadelic,
The Litter,
Model 500,
Crash Course in Science,
Index,
Harry Pussy,
Tubeway Army,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joyce Sims,
The Barracudas,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Excepter,
Donny Hathaway,
Marmalade,
Pantaleimon,
Liliput,
The Move,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The American Breed,
Tropical Tobacco,
Japan,
Scan 7,
Lee Hazlewood,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wasted Youth,
Smog,
Stockholm Monsters,
Brass Construction,
Sandy B,
Gang Starr,
Nico,
Mandrill,
Joy Division,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scratch Acid,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.