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 Azerbaijan and from Accra.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Saccharine Trust to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Gories. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Anthony Braxton,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pylon,
Max Romeo,
Bush Tetras,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Siglo XX,
Dawn Penn,
Cecil Taylor,
The Young Rascals,
Pussy Galore,
Groovy Waters,
Eric B and Rakim,
OOIOO,
K-Klass,
Tim Buckley,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Josef K,
Tom Boy,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Gories,
The Moleskins,
The Doors,
Skarface,
Sällskapet,
Duran Duran,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bootsy Collins,
Sam Rivers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Icehouse,
James White and The Blacks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Star Department,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fad Gadget,
The Pop Group,
The J.B.'s,
Crooked Eye,
Quando Quango,
The Moody Blues,
Negative Approach,
Eve St. Jones,
Bluetip,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nas,
Eddi Front,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Litter,
The Fire Engines,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Masters at Work,
Sight & Sound,
The Dead C,
Little Man,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.