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 Bhutan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the marimba 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 Index to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Derrick May,
Gregory Isaacs,
Agent Orange,
Stetsasonic,
Gang of Four,
The Monks,
Guru Guru,
Lou Christie,
Sex Pistols,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
D'Angelo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Sherman,
The Count Five,
Crispian St. Peters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fall,
Wally Richardson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Alarm Clocks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gerry Rafferty,
Clear Light,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Last Poets,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Chris Corsano,
Reagan Youth,
the Bar-Kays,
ABC,
Sugar Minott,
Y Pants,
Basic Channel,
Slave,
Minny Pops,
Todd Terry,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Liliput,
Heaven 17,
Pantytec,
Radiohead,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lyres,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Radio Birdman,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wings,
Deakin,
Subhumans,
Pussy Galore,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sun Ra,
Letta Mbulu,
Scan 7,
Babytalk,
Fela Kuti,
Fatback Band,
Flash Fearless,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.