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 Uzbekistan and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Swell Maps to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Eric Copeland,
Dead Boys,
H. Thieme,
Minor Threat,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lightning Bolt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ohio Players,
Lungfish,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Beau Brummels,
Pere Ubu,
Zapp,
Terry Callier,
The Young Rascals,
Depeche Mode,
Essential Logic,
kango's stein massive,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
B.T. Express,
Byron Stingily,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Crooked Eye,
Ralphi Rosario,
Stiv Bators,
Scott Walker,
The Leaves,
Infiniti,
Gang Green,
Derrick Morgan,
Nirvana,
Surgeon,
Swell Maps,
Saccharine Trust,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Josef K,
Moss Icon,
Fugazi,
Tres Demented,
Hasil Adkins,
Lakeside,
Public Image Ltd.,
Scion,
Sexual Harrassment,
U.S. Maple,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Boredoms,
The Index,
Kurtis Blow,
Shoche,
Wings,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Maurizio,
Sparks,
The Smoke,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
X-102,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.