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 Suriname and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kurtis Blow 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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Music Machine,
Joy Division,
Banda Bassotti,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Albert Ayler,
The Golliwogs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cymande,
Gong,
Hardrive,
Harry Pussy,
Nico,
Carl Craig,
Pierre Henry,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lalann,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
R.M.O.,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pulsallama,
Nik Kershaw,
Camberwell Now,
Alphaville,
The Shadows of Knight,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rapeman,
Bobby Byrd,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Chris Corsano,
Soulsonic Force,
The Detroit Cobras,
Shoche,
John Lydon,
Bush Tetras,
the Swans,
Joey Negro,
Tom Boy,
OOIOO,
Leonard Cohen,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Misunderstood,
The Saints,
Soft Cell,
Altered Images,
X-Ray Spex,
Scan 7,
Al Stewart,
Desert Stars,
The Tremeloes,
ABBA,
Yazoo,
Davy DMX,
Mr. Review,
Deadbeat,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Mojo Men,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.