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 Oman and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 clarinet 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 Jerry Gold Smith 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
Con Funk Shun,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Real Kids,
Grauzone,
Pet Shop Boys,
Clear Light,
Barrington Levy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eddi Front,
Black Pus,
KRS-One,
Quando Quango,
Unrelated Segments,
Dawn Penn,
Anthony Braxton,
Alice Coltrane,
Alphaville,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rotary Connection,
Minnie Riperton,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rufus Thomas,
Sandy B,
MDC,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Supertramp,
The Smoke,
48th St. Collective,
Freddie Wadling,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Byron Stingily,
T. Rex,
The Searchers,
Theoretical Girls,
New Age Steppers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Robert Hood,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eden Ahbez,
Brothers Johnson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Slits,
The Detroit Cobras,
Echospace,
Hasil Adkins,
Pussy Galore,
Tommy Roe,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Joe Smooth,
The Wake,
Stereo Dub,
Groovy Waters,
Eli Mardock,
Lungfish,
UT,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
EPMD,
Pharoah Sanders,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.