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 Uzbekistan and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet 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 Scratch Acid to the grunge 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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 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 Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nick Fraelich,
Jerry's Kids,
OOIOO,
Joy Division,
Stereo Dub,
Black Moon,
Harry Pussy,
Alice Coltrane,
Fela Kuti,
Moby Grape,
The Cowsills,
UT,
Jacob Miller,
Lakeside,
Excepter,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Kinks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roy Ayers,
Kurtis Blow,
Joyce Sims,
Amon Düül II,
Hasil Adkins,
the Bar-Kays,
Blancmange,
The Monks,
Boredoms,
Desert Stars,
Gang Starr,
Junior Murvin,
Negative Approach,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Glenn Branca,
The Music Machine,
The Residents,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
PIL,
Lyres,
ABC,
Pole,
Kevin Saunderson,
Vainqueur,
Suicide,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Franke,
Mo-Dettes,
MC5,
Guru Guru,
Wally Richardson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sam Rivers,
Wasted Youth,
Man Eating Sloth,
Arcadia,
Simply Red,
K-Klass,
The Mojo Men,
Mandrill,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.