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 Bolivia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 John Holt to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Associates,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nik Kershaw,
Steve Hackett,
Alton Ellis,
The Trojans,
Judy Mowatt,
Pierre Henry,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
kango's stein massive,
Quando Quango,
Radiohead,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Todd Rundgren,
Freddie Wadling,
The Angels of Light,
The Modern Lovers,
The Mummies,
Eve St. Jones,
Gerry Rafferty,
Goldenarms,
Anthony Braxton,
Niagra,
Bob Dylan,
The Red Krayola,
Con Funk Shun,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Moleskins,
June of 44,
48th St. Collective,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Absolute Body Control,
The Dead C,
Marvin Gaye,
the Sonics,
Camouflage,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Association,
The Monks,
The Five Americans,
Rotary Connection,
Gang Green,
Kas Product,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sarah Menescal,
The Cramps,
Al Stewart,
Barbara Tucker,
Fat Boys,
Panda Bear,
Danielle Patucci,
Sex Pistols,
The Invisible,
Erykah Badu,
Harmonia,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.