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 Zambia and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe 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 Scrapy to the rap 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Joyce Sims,
Wings,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Associates,
Maurizio,
Reuben Wilson,
Agent Orange,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Hardrive,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Robert Hood,
Moss Icon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mantronix,
Gang of Four,
CMW,
Kayak,
Blake Baxter,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eurythmics,
Nas,
Fat Boys,
Magma,
Davy DMX,
Connie Case,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fuzztones,
Magazine,
Al Stewart,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed,
H. Thieme,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Masters at Work,
Wolf Eyes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Banda Bassotti,
Todd Rundgren,
Godley & Creme,
Roger Hodgson,
Bill Wells,
Howard Jones,
Zero Boys,
Gabor Szabo,
Fad Gadget,
Goldenarms,
Hoover,
Matthew Halsall,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Music Machine,
Aaron Thompson,
Harry Pussy,
Spandau Ballet,
Yusef Lateef,
Janne Schatter,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.