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 Nauru and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Woodstock.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 the Swans to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Wasted Youth,
Masters at Work,
cv313,
The Offenders,
Livin' Joy,
Godley & Creme,
Harmonia,
Rakim,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dark Day,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pulsallama,
Bobby Byrd,
Anakelly,
Simply Red,
China Crisis,
Mandrill,
Scratch Acid,
Second Layer,
Wally Richardson,
Letta Mbulu,
L. Decosne,
Fatback Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Germs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Country Teasers,
Boredoms,
Rites of Spring,
Pharoah Sanders,
Big Daddy Kane,
Deadbeat,
Ultra Naté,
Arcadia,
Rod Modell,
The Names,
Sun Ra,
Ultravox,
Banda Bassotti,
Lungfish,
Thompson Twins,
Kaleidoscope,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Association,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Divine Comedy,
Henry Cow,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Invisible,
Warsaw,
Alton Ellis,
Icehouse,
Cecil Taylor,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Cramps,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Au Pairs,
The Beau Brummels,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.