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 Iran and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the punk 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sarah Menescal,
Reagan Youth,
The Human League,
Cymande,
The Divine Comedy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mr. Review,
Funkadelic,
The Offenders,
June Days,
Mary Jane Girls,
Skarface,
Byron Stingily,
Talk Talk,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Audionom,
Joy Division,
Brothers Johnson,
The Techniques,
Darondo,
Wally Richardson,
Blancmange,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bauhaus,
Thompson Twins,
Sixth Finger,
Anthony Braxton,
Juan Atkins,
Laurel Aitken,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Fortunes,
Boz Scaggs,
The Mummies,
Malaria!,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
F. McDonald,
Janne Schatter,
Gichy Dan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ronan,
Michelle Simonal,
Man Parrish,
Grauzone,
Peter and Kerry,
Glenn Branca,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Traffic Nightmare,
Khruangbin,
Davy DMX,
Patti Smith,
Cecil Taylor,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Avey Tare,
Sonny Sharrock,
Flipper,
Man Eating Sloth,
Drexciya,
X-101,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.