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 Russia 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 New Age Steppers to the techno 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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario 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 theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Tears for Fears,
The Trojans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wally Richardson,
Michelle Simonal,
Letta Mbulu,
Fela Kuti,
Derrick Morgan,
James White and The Blacks,
Popol Vuh,
Pulsallama,
Joey Negro,
Kenny Larkin,
Rakim,
Sex Pistols,
Crash Course in Science,
Archie Shepp,
Bobby Womack,
Gang Green,
Unrelated Segments,
X-101,
The Slackers,
Masters at Work,
Al Stewart,
Parry Music,
The Happenings,
Eurythmics,
Kerri Chandler,
the Germs,
Soft Machine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Amon Düül,
Alton Ellis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nik Kershaw,
K-Klass,
the Human League,
Matthew Bourne,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mad Mike,
Agitation Free,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Human League,
Bob Dylan,
Heaven 17,
Gang Starr,
Leonard Cohen,
Gong,
Wolf Eyes,
Con Funk Shun,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Symarip,
LL Cool J,
Charles Mingus,
CMW,
48th St. Collective,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Sheep,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Wake,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.