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 Slovenia and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Toronto.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Liliput 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
June of 44,
Simply Red,
Jandek,
Public Enemy,
the Association,
James White and The Blacks,
Babytalk,
Main Source,
Cecil Taylor,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bob Dylan,
F. McDonald,
Dave Gahan,
Charles Mingus,
The Beau Brummels,
MC5,
Fatback Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Tubeway Army,
Camouflage,
Absolute Body Control,
cv313,
Monks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Wasted Youth,
ABBA,
The Durutti Column,
The Neon Judgement,
Accadde A,
Adolescents,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bill Wells,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kerri Chandler,
Pantaleimon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Man Eating Sloth,
DJ Sneak,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pere Ubu,
Kool Moe Dee,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Evens,
Parry Music,
Jerry's Kids,
Symarip,
Desert Stars,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Derrick May,
Minny Pops,
Warren Ellis,
Aural Exciters,
Nick Fraelich,
Magazine,
Model 500,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.