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 Liberia and from Copenhagen.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Max Romeo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Aswad,
Flash Fearless,
The Gladiators,
Gerry Rafferty,
Carl Craig,
Black Flag,
Skarface,
Kevin Saunderson,
Minutemen,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Christie,
Mark Hollis,
Faraquet,
Babytalk,
Motorama,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Walker Brothers,
Deepchord,
Tubeway Army,
Bauhaus,
Archie Shepp,
Black Bananas,
Lalann,
Tommy Roe,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tears for Fears,
Blake Baxter,
Lucky Dragons,
Mantronix,
Ten City,
Heaven 17,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cure,
The Martian,
Pagans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kayak,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Velvet Underground,
the Human League,
Make Up,
Marine Girls,
The Moody Blues,
Pantytec,
Janne Schatter,
Soul II Soul,
EPMD,
The Fuzztones,
The Smoke,
the Normal,
The Techniques,
Ice-T,
T.S.O.L.,
Soulsonic Force,
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.