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 Philippines and from Tehran.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Bobby Byrd,
R.M.O.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Brick,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eden Ahbez,
Liliput,
Mars,
Junior Murvin,
Outsiders,
Arthur Verocai,
Babytalk,
Pere Ubu,
Gregory Isaacs,
Steve Hackett,
Circle Jerks,
David Bowie,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rakim,
Silicon Teens,
The Walker Brothers,
Fluxion,
Matthew Bourne,
KRS-One,
Joey Negro,
The Birthday Party,
Patti Smith,
Mark Hollis,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jeff Mills,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gabor Szabo,
Simply Red,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Sonics,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Donald Byrd,
Roy Ayers,
Malaria!,
The Gories,
Lou Reed,
cv313,
Soulsonic Force,
The United States of America,
Royal Trux,
Qualms,
Ossler,
Gastr Del Sol,
Oneida,
Niagra,
The Black Dice,
Talk Talk,
Radio Birdman,
The Skatalites,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Deadbeat,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ultravox,
Can,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.