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 Lesotho and from Manchester.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Parry Music to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
The Vogues,
Scrapy,
Howard Jones,
Bauhaus,
Scan 7,
Dead Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Surgeon,
Electric Prunes,
Althea and Donna,
Lightning Bolt,
Eli Mardock,
The Fall,
Interpol,
Fela Kuti,
Johnny Clarke,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Standells,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Scion,
The Seeds,
Chrome,
Monks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Don Cherry,
Oneida,
Marcia Griffiths,
Prince Buster,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sam Rivers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Black Pus,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Camouflage,
Toni Rubio,
Barbara Tucker,
The Blues Magoos,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Judy Mowatt,
James Chance & The Contortions,
E-Dancer,
Faust,
The Happenings,
Eric Dolphy,
Mantronix,
One Last Wish,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Moody Blues,
Joensuu 1685,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
James White and The Blacks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Remains,
Gichy Dan,
Aural Exciters,
The Gap Band,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.