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 Lesotho and from Beijing.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare 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 Black Pus 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Unrelated Segments,
The Names,
Tears for Fears,
Fear,
Arab on Radar,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sound Behaviour,
Alphaville,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
D'Angelo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
48th St. Collective,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Victims,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Monochrome Set,
Aural Exciters,
James White and The Blacks,
B.T. Express,
Susan Cadogan,
Angry Samoans,
Agent Orange,
Funky Four + One,
The Mojo Men,
Brick,
Kerri Chandler,
Loose Ends,
Minnie Riperton,
The New Christs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Avey Tare,
Lucky Dragons,
Section 25,
Dorothy Ashby,
Curtis Mayfield,
EPMD,
Tubeway Army,
Alton Ellis,
Cybotron,
Bobby Womack,
H. Thieme,
Jacob Miller,
Tom Boy,
Half Japanese,
Soul II Soul,
The Toasters,
Second Layer,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pantaleimon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Groovy Waters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jeff Lynne,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Count Five,
Main Source,
Delta 5,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.