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 Laos and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Skarface to the grunge 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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a rhodes 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 spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
Sandy B,
8 Eyed Spy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Idris Muhammad,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Metal Thangz,
Procol Harum,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Detroit Cobras,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fad Gadget,
Robert Görl,
Kool Moe Dee,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
a-ha,
The Motions,
Pantytec,
Barrington Levy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cheater Slicks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yaz,
Lyres,
Smog,
R.M.O.,
Suicide,
Michelle Simonal,
Au Pairs,
Piero Umiliani,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Minny Pops,
Newcleus,
Harmonia,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alice Coltrane,
Gabor Szabo,
Ken Boothe,
The Dirtbombs,
Yellowson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rakim,
H. Thieme,
David Axelrod,
The Fall,
Bang On A Can,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Sonics,
Electric Prunes,
The Litter,
Sight & Sound,
The Techniques,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Standells,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marvin Gaye,
Hashim,
The Velvet Underground,
New York Dolls,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Cybotron,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.