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 Equatorial Guinea and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Fugs to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mandrill,
Black Moon,
T.S.O.L.,
Marc Almond,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kaleidoscope,
The Gories,
Fad Gadget,
Lungfish,
Talk Talk,
Cymande,
Carl Craig,
Schoolly D,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Neu!,
Johnny Clarke,
Average White Band,
Ice-T,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Michelle Simonal,
Accadde A,
Gastr Del Sol,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Underground Resistance,
Depeche Mode,
The Red Krayola,
The Slits,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Skaos,
Royal Trux,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Saints,
Lalo Schifrin,
Freddie Wadling,
The Trojans,
Charles Mingus,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Idris Muhammad,
Yazoo,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Soft Cell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lee Hazlewood,
Colin Newman,
One Last Wish,
The Pretty Things,
Camberwell Now,
Masters at Work,
Trumans Water,
The Zeros,
Jandek,
Glambeats Corp.,
Skriet,
Scratch Acid,
the Bar-Kays,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pole,
Todd Rundgren,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.