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 Congo and from Accra.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the güiro 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 Barclay James Harvest 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
The Vogues,
Mandrill,
Warsaw,
The Searchers,
Scion,
Heaven 17,
Stockholm Monsters,
Peter and Kerry,
The Blues Magoos,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bill Wells,
Tres Demented,
Arthur Verocai,
John Coltrane,
The Fall,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Icehouse,
China Crisis,
Eurythmics,
Crooked Eye,
The Beau Brummels,
Mantronix,
Cheater Slicks,
F. McDonald,
Harry Pussy,
The Misunderstood,
Television,
Terrestrial Tones,
Connie Case,
The Pretty Things,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Juan Atkins,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Von Mondo,
Lou Christie,
Brass Construction,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mr. Review,
Lower 48,
Frankie Knuckles,
Goldenarms,
Ituana,
Harpers Bizarre,
Minor Threat,
Marc Almond,
X-101,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ohio Players,
Theoretical Girls,
John Lydon,
Agent Orange,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Popol Vuh,
Country Teasers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Grauzone,
Jacques Brel,
The Golliwogs,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.