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 Philippines and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Joy Division to the grime 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Circle Jerks,
Gong,
Ken Boothe,
Aswad,
Arab on Radar,
JFA,
Pantaleimon,
Deepchord,
Black Bananas,
Schoolly D,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mandrill,
Kerrie Biddell,
Popol Vuh,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sound Behaviour,
Eric Copeland,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Sherman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
Peter & Gordon,
Barrington Levy,
PIL,
Max Romeo,
Todd Rundgren,
Eve St. Jones,
KRS-One,
FM Einheit,
Frankie Knuckles,
Agent Orange,
Basic Channel,
The Selecter,
Bob Dylan,
Eddi Front,
Oneida,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fat Boys,
World's Most,
Niagra,
Janne Schatter,
DNA,
Robert Görl,
The Music Machine,
Funky Four + One,
the Slits,
Lalann,
Kerri Chandler,
Chris Corsano,
Maurizio,
Icehouse,
Ludus,
Ultravox,
Rites of Spring,
The Star Department,
The Golliwogs,
Stiv Bators,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
The Electric Prunes,
London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir.
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.