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 Guatemala and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 marimba 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 The Walker Brothers to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joensuu 1685 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Aaron Thompson,
The Count Five,
Eve St. Jones,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
X-101,
Gang Green,
Y Pants,
Gong,
The Fuzztones,
La Düsseldorf,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nirvana,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Electric Prunes,
Newcleus,
Metal Thangz,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Evens,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Schoolly D,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Thee Headcoats,
Matthew Halsall,
The Electric Prunes,
the Sonics,
Wire,
Brand Nubian,
China Crisis,
The Durutti Column,
Shoche,
The Divine Comedy,
Slick Rick,
Minny Pops,
This Heat,
Al Stewart,
Prince Buster,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ornette Coleman,
Quadrant,
the Slits,
Alphaville,
DJ Style,
The Raincoats,
Derrick Morgan,
Supertramp,
Tomorrow,
Bush Tetras,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Unrelated Segments,
The Litter,
Gang Gang Dance,
Chrome,
Andrew Hill,
The Human League,
Suicide,
Wasted Youth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Vladislav Delay,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.