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 Bangladesh and from Jakarta.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Flesh Eaters to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Sonics,
Cluster,
Cymande,
Eurythmics,
Absolute Body Control,
The Leaves,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
June Days,
Supertramp,
James White and The Blacks,
Cecil Taylor,
Lalann,
Intrusion,
Grauzone,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Normal,
The Wake,
Hardrive,
AZ,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ludus,
Agitation Free,
Gang of Four,
Index,
The Divine Comedy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Adolescents,
Stereo Dub,
A Certain Ratio,
Accadde A,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The United States of America,
Warren Ellis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
DJ Sneak,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Black Pus,
The Standells,
Minor Threat,
Al Stewart,
The J.B.'s,
F. McDonald,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gang Green,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bizarre Inc.,
Glenn Branca,
Agent Orange,
Mr. Review,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Neil Young,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yusef Lateef,
Barbara Tucker,
Sound Behaviour,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.