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 Cape Verde 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro 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 Todd Terry to the funk 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Banda Bassotti,
Stetsasonic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Schoolly D,
Mantronix,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Zero Boys,
OOIOO,
Nik Kershaw,
Popol Vuh,
Model 500,
The Vogues,
Glambeats Corp.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pere Ubu,
R.M.O.,
Alice Coltrane,
Stockholm Monsters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Panda Bear,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Boogie Down Productions,
Avey Tare,
DJ Style,
The Moleskins,
Oneida,
Skriet,
Ralphi Rosario,
Easy Going,
The Residents,
Maurizio,
Jeff Mills,
Suicide,
Barclay James Harvest,
Reuben Wilson,
Darondo,
Charles Mingus,
Make Up,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
F. McDonald,
D'Angelo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sparks,
Rakim,
Joensuu 1685,
The Angels of Light,
The New Christs,
Mars,
Radio Birdman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Magazine,
The Invisible,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lower 48,
Qualms,
DNA,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Grass Roots,
Davy DMX,
Jeru the Damaja,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.