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 Lithuania and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Gabor Szabo,
Ornette Coleman,
Ludus,
Unrelated Segments,
Mo-Dettes,
Mars,
Barbara Tucker,
A Certain Ratio,
Warren Ellis,
Ronan,
Lalann,
Quantec,
Whodini,
One Last Wish,
T. Rex,
Susan Cadogan,
CMW,
The Residents,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tears for Fears,
Kerrie Biddell,
Banda Bassotti,
Moby Grape,
Supertramp,
Au Pairs,
Quadrant,
Sun Ra,
Bluetip,
Das Ding,
Rotary Connection,
The Litter,
Kas Product,
Easy Going,
Bobby Sherman,
Donald Byrd,
B.T. Express,
Kurtis Blow,
Qualms,
Janne Schatter,
Yusef Lateef,
DJ Sneak,
OOIOO,
Mary Jane Girls,
Arab on Radar,
Aaron Thompson,
Donny Hathaway,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Hashim,
The Monks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lower 48,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rosa Yemen,
Livin' Joy,
Average White Band,
Monks,
Circle Jerks,
Rakim,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.