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 Burundi and from Copenhagen.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 organ 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 Gastr Del Sol to the jazz 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Bang On A Can,
The Alarm Clocks,
Yaz,
These Immortal Souls,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Techniques,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Max Romeo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nils Olav,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Morten Harket,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Lydon,
Eli Mardock,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rosa Yemen,
Black Bananas,
Radiopuhelimet,
Blossom Toes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marcia Griffiths,
Index,
Depeche Mode,
Amon Düül,
Jerry's Kids,
The Modern Lovers,
Tomorrow,
The Misunderstood,
Pet Shop Boys,
Section 25,
Whodini,
The Associates,
The Young Rascals,
Funkadelic,
Crime,
The Slackers,
Minor Threat,
Roxy Music,
Cheater Slicks,
Toni Rubio,
Tom Boy,
Rufus Thomas,
Ituana,
Mars,
Scrapy,
Liliput,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Archie Shepp,
June of 44,
Royal Trux,
The Last Poets,
Dark Day,
Porter Ricks,
Drive Like Jehu,
New York Dolls,
Leonard Cohen,
Bush Tetras,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.