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 Tunisia and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Donald Byrd to the punk 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare 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 harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
Los Fastidios,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dark Day,
Cybotron,
Fela Kuti,
The Index,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bob Dylan,
Groovy Waters,
Eli Mardock,
Swell Maps,
Fad Gadget,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Byron Stingily,
Brass Construction,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mummies,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Smiths,
The Dave Clark Five,
Model 500,
Ice-T,
The Sound,
the Soft Cell,
Angry Samoans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Zero Boys,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Soul II Soul,
Prince Buster,
Cecil Taylor,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gories,
Icehouse,
Derrick May,
Scott Walker,
The Modern Lovers,
T.S.O.L.,
New Age Steppers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
10cc,
The Durutti Column,
World's Most,
Moebius,
Magma,
Black Sheep,
James White and The Blacks,
Matthew Halsall,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
CMW,
Rakim,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pulsallama,
Davy DMX,
Tim Buckley,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.