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 Malawi and from Shanghai.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Morten Harket to the funk 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Pus,
Japan,
Cybotron,
The Young Rascals,
Reagan Youth,
Duran Duran,
Shoche,
Quadrant,
Sällskapet,
The Monks,
Tommy Roe,
Motorama,
The Monochrome Set,
Sexual Harrassment,
Can,
Barbara Tucker,
Kaleidoscope,
Deadbeat,
Ronan,
Radiopuhelimet,
Arab on Radar,
Grandmaster Flash,
Q65,
Vainqueur,
Aural Exciters,
World's Most,
Kool Moe Dee,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Patti Smith,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Slackers,
Ituana,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pussy Galore,
The Modern Lovers,
Amon Düül,
Joe Finger,
The Victims,
Slick Rick,
Bauhaus,
Sun Ra,
Country Teasers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Birthday Party,
Franke,
Hoover,
The Fall,
Bobby Byrd,
New Order,
Lyres,
The Offenders,
Jacques Brel,
The Slits,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Toasters,
The Evens,
Ohio Players,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pagans,
The Selecter,
Suicide,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.