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 Mauritania 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 sitar 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 Index to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
The Human League,
Flamin' Groovies,
Goldenarms,
Skriet,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lakeside,
Animal Collective,
Das Ding,
The Kinks,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cybotron,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Blancmange,
Bronski Beat,
Zero Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
H. Thieme,
Buzzcocks,
Deadbeat,
China Crisis,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
MDC,
Organ,
Fluxion,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Saints,
Moebius,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Victims,
Kaleidoscope,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dorothy Ashby,
Davy DMX,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Index,
Pet Shop Boys,
Japan,
Pussy Galore,
June of 44,
Scan 7,
Amon Düül,
The Doobie Brothers,
Flash Fearless,
Bootsy Collins,
Rakim,
Barry Ungar,
Scientists,
The Last Poets,
The Gap Band,
Tommy Roe,
The Wake,
The Five Americans,
Alphaville,
Shoche,
Drive Like Jehu,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.