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 Vietnam and from Philadelphia.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the punk 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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Judy Mowatt,
Chris Corsano,
Tears for Fears,
Carl Craig,
The Slackers,
Amon Düül,
Mantronix,
Jeff Mills,
Television,
The Fugs,
Ken Boothe,
The Wake,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Electric Prunes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Max Romeo,
Cheater Slicks,
Con Funk Shun,
Faust,
CMW,
The Tremeloes,
EPMD,
Marmalade,
Desert Stars,
Au Pairs,
The Golliwogs,
Eurythmics,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Skriet,
Flash Fearless,
The Star Department,
The Associates,
the Sonics,
Stereo Dub,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sarah Menescal,
Mark Hollis,
Davy DMX,
Prince Buster,
The Red Krayola,
Ultra Naté,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marvin Gaye,
Terrestrial Tones,
Scratch Acid,
Harpers Bizarre,
Niagra,
The Moody Blues,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ossler,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The American Breed,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fatback Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tom Boy,
Echospace,
New Order,
Masters at Work,
Gang Gang Dance,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.