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 Comoros and from Halifax.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 Archie Shepp to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bill Wells,
Young Marble Giants,
Oneida,
Alison Limerick,
Arab on Radar,
cv313,
Patti Smith,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lou Christie,
The Smoke,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sister Nancy,
Reagan Youth,
Trumans Water,
Blake Baxter,
Suburban Knight,
Scott Walker,
Magazine,
Neu!,
Moebius,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Searchers,
Hoover,
Soulsonic Force,
Motorama,
Cameo,
Youth Brigade,
Skriet,
June Days,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joyce Sims,
Fear,
The Velvet Underground,
Leonard Cohen,
Minutemen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nils Olav,
Gabor Szabo,
Magma,
The Dirtbombs,
Lalann,
Mary Jane Girls,
Half Japanese,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lakeside,
Silicon Teens,
Big Daddy Kane,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Offenders,
The Young Rascals,
F. McDonald,
Harry Pussy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ituana,
Ultra Naté,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gang Starr,
Organ,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.