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 Benin and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 T. Rex to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Metal Thangz,
Judy Mowatt,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Aural Exciters,
Motorama,
L. Decosne,
The Smiths,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Association,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marmalade,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang of Four,
MDC,
Can,
Altered Images,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eden Ahbez,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Moebius,
Quando Quango,
Wings,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Underground Resistance,
Freddie Wadling,
Pet Shop Boys,
Essential Logic,
Nick Fraelich,
Pantaleimon,
The Offenders,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joe Finger,
Rotary Connection,
The Pop Group,
Livin' Joy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Johnny Clarke,
the Swans,
Aloha Tigers,
Soft Machine,
Thee Headcoats,
Country Teasers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eddi Front,
John Foxx,
Monks,
U.S. Maple,
Ice-T,
Schoolly D,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jeff Mills,
Basic Channel,
PIL,
MC5,
Goldenarms,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Symarip,
Blossom Toes,
Isaac Hayes,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.