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 Nigeria and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the electroclash 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neu! 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter and Kerry 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?
Pussy Galore,
Fela Kuti,
Barry Ungar,
Curtis Mayfield,
Con Funk Shun,
Kerrie Biddell,
Thee Headcoats,
Popol Vuh,
Pierre Henry,
Glenn Branca,
Howard Jones,
Fugazi,
Brick,
Los Fastidios,
Erasure,
Infiniti,
Y Pants,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rotary Connection,
Boredoms,
Blancmange,
Soulsonic Force,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cecil Taylor,
Grey Daturas,
Juan Atkins,
Ronnie Foster,
Procol Harum,
Peter and Kerry,
Buzzcocks,
Bootsy Collins,
Drive Like Jehu,
Janne Schatter,
Maurizio,
Don Cherry,
Ponytail,
Soul II Soul,
Hasil Adkins,
The Pop Group,
H. Thieme,
Saccharine Trust,
Carl Craig,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Icehouse,
Loose Ends,
Aaron Thompson,
Angry Samoans,
Morten Harket,
The Count Five,
The Index,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Remains,
Blake Baxter,
MDC,
Michelle Simonal,
Q and Not U,
Dennis Brown,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bob Dylan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.