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 St Lucia 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Evens to the electroclash 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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Depeche Mode,
Andrew Hill,
Sister Nancy,
Crooked Eye,
Average White Band,
K-Klass,
Terry Callier,
Cluster,
The Mojo Men,
Graham Central Station,
Saccharine Trust,
Hashim,
Todd Terry,
Ohio Players,
Bobby Sherman,
The New Christs,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Frankie Knuckles,
Underground Resistance,
Blake Baxter,
The Barracudas,
Make Up,
Crash Course in Science,
Moby Grape,
Alice Coltrane,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Niagra,
Model 500,
Cameo,
The Cure,
Pagans,
The Standells,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cecil Taylor,
Country Teasers,
Connie Case,
Carl Craig,
Alton Ellis,
Lou Christie,
Rapeman,
Ultravox,
The Music Machine,
Slave,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Shuggie Otis,
Japan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
John Holt,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pere Ubu,
Vladislav Delay,
ABBA,
Massinfluence,
L. Decosne,
Smog,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.