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 Afghanistan and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the rap 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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Rhythim Is Rhythim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Soft Machine,
Flash Fearless,
The Litter,
Circle Jerks,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Modern Lovers,
Chrome,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
L. Decosne,
The Fall,
The Divine Comedy,
Skaos,
World's Most,
The Residents,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jawbox,
Fela Kuti,
EPMD,
Pere Ubu,
Magazine,
Television Personalities,
Little Man,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tim Buckley,
Spandau Ballet,
Desert Stars,
The Beau Brummels,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marmalade,
Cecil Taylor,
Lalo Schifrin,
David McCallum,
Colin Newman,
Prince Buster,
The American Breed,
Q and Not U,
MDC,
the Germs,
Robert Görl,
Camouflage,
The Neon Judgement,
John Lydon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Joyce Sims,
Dark Day,
Connie Case,
Cluster,
Harmonia,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Vainqueur,
The Mummies,
The Monochrome Set,
Nils Olav,
Sam Rivers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Joensuu 1685,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Doobie Brothers,
Slick Rick,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.