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 Slovenia and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar 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 Birthday Party to the techno 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Donald Byrd,
Qualms,
Silicon Teens,
R.M.O.,
LL Cool J,
Bobby Byrd,
Soft Cell,
Cal Tjader,
Kaleidoscope,
Skriet,
New York Dolls,
Mission of Burma,
Deepchord,
The Smiths,
Ultra Naté,
Underground Resistance,
Zero Boys,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Reagan Youth,
Severed Heads,
Joensuu 1685,
Girls At Our Best!,
Patti Smith,
Negative Approach,
The Golliwogs,
Grey Daturas,
Tears for Fears,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Cosmic Jokers,
EPMD,
Nick Fraelich,
Man Parrish,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crash Course in Science,
Scientists,
Procol Harum,
Second Layer,
B.T. Express,
The Monks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Drexciya,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultravox,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Mojo Men,
Arcadia,
Desert Stars,
Pulsallama,
The Last Poets,
E-Dancer,
Minutemen,
Fat Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
Barclay James Harvest,
F. McDonald,
The Searchers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jeff Mills,
The Selecter,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.