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 Swaziland and from Johannesburg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
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 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 Lou Reed 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 Flesh Eaters to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Absolute Body Control,
Deakin,
Pierre Henry,
Subhumans,
Lungfish,
D'Angelo,
Bang On A Can,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mad Mike,
Anthony Braxton,
A Certain Ratio,
Amon Düül,
Au Pairs,
Essential Logic,
Sparks,
The Toasters,
Black Flag,
Flipper,
Scientists,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Stooges,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Swans,
U.S. Maple,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Wake,
The Cosmic Jokers,
John Holt,
Kenny Larkin,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Slackers,
Derrick Morgan,
John Foxx,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Mojo Men,
The Neon Judgement,
Janne Schatter,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rites of Spring,
ABBA,
Rosa Yemen,
Echospace,
Qualms,
Quando Quango,
Ponytail,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jandek,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Saints,
The Last Poets,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
X-101,
Bad Manners,
Index,
Matthew Halsall,
Eden Ahbez,
Vladislav Delay,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.