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 Armenia and from London.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 guitar 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 Jacob Miller to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lou Christie,
The Blackbyrds,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Moebius,
Lebanon Hanover,
Albert Ayler,
Cameo,
Derrick May,
The Index,
ABBA,
Funkadelic,
Scientists,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bill Wells,
Connie Case,
Faraquet,
UT,
the Slits,
Black Bananas,
Skarface,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eve St. Jones,
Kaleidoscope,
Danielle Patucci,
The Pop Group,
Bang On A Can,
Iggy Pop,
K-Klass,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marmalade,
Black Pus,
Bobby Byrd,
Ponytail,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ten City,
Pylon,
Lyres,
L. Decosne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rosa Yemen,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scott Walker,
Janne Schatter,
This Heat,
Arcadia,
Unrelated Segments,
Barry Ungar,
The Mummies,
Royal Trux,
Alton Ellis,
X-Ray Spex,
The Monochrome Set,
Cecil Taylor,
Joy Division,
Minny Pops,
Dennis Brown,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Isaac Hayes,
Tres Demented,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.