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 Bhutan and from Manchester.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 linndrum 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 Pantaleimon to the crunk 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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
LL Cool J,
Alice Coltrane,
Dennis Brown,
Stiv Bators,
Deakin,
Procol Harum,
Joe Finger,
Das Ding,
Amazonics,
Marmalade,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Dave Clark Five,
Neil Young,
The Monochrome Set,
Unrelated Segments,
Susan Cadogan,
the Sonics,
Radio Birdman,
Anthony Braxton,
Accadde A,
Judy Mowatt,
Nico,
Kerrie Biddell,
Matthew Halsall,
Franke,
Liliput,
Joey Negro,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Saccharine Trust,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Moon,
Kaleidoscope,
The Misunderstood,
Reuben Wilson,
The Gladiators,
Silicon Teens,
Piero Umiliani,
Fear,
MC5,
Swans,
Camberwell Now,
The Beau Brummels,
Joyce Sims,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lindisfarne,
Hoover,
Mission of Burma,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Dirtbombs,
Idris Muhammad,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gil Scott Heron,
Adolescents,
The Offenders,
Suicide,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.