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 Tuvalu and from Halifax.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Anthony Braxton to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Half Japanese,
Sexual Harrassment,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tom Boy,
New Order,
June Days,
Big Daddy Kane,
Negative Approach,
Alice Coltrane,
Pere Ubu,
Jacques Brel,
Franke,
The Toasters,
Smog,
James White and The Blacks,
Sex Pistols,
Peter & Gordon,
Ken Boothe,
Ultra Naté,
Soul II Soul,
Eve St. Jones,
cv313,
Moss Icon,
Kurtis Blow,
JFA,
Kaleidoscope,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bad Manners,
the Swans,
B.T. Express,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Deadbeat,
Nick Fraelich,
Los Fastidios,
Brass Construction,
Pantaleimon,
Wings,
Funky Four + One,
Black Flag,
Drexciya,
Lightning Bolt,
Model 500,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Move,
Rufus Thomas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Duran Duran,
Wasted Youth,
Delon & Dalcan,
A Certain Ratio,
Au Pairs,
The Dirtbombs,
Animal Collective,
Arcadia,
The Monks,
Yaz,
Matthew Bourne,
The Mojo Men,
The Fuzztones,
Carl Craig,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.