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 Colombia 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes 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 New Christs to the crunk 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Essential Logic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Susan Cadogan,
Mantronix,
Blake Baxter,
Marvin Gaye,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Sheep,
X-101,
June Days,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Move,
Excepter,
Amazonics,
Second Layer,
The Neon Judgement,
In Retrospect,
H. Thieme,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crooked Eye,
Scientists,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
OOIOO,
Kenny Larkin,
X-102,
The Monks,
John Lydon,
The Divine Comedy,
Negative Approach,
Youth Brigade,
Joy Division,
Nik Kershaw,
Porter Ricks,
Dave Gahan,
Vainqueur,
Pagans,
Iggy Pop,
PIL,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tres Demented,
John Coltrane,
Aural Exciters,
Tommy Roe,
Bill Wells,
The Gories,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Misunderstood,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Tremeloes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Flag,
Bobby Sherman,
F. McDonald,
Zero Boys,
Radiohead,
Robert Wyatt,
Section 25,
The Cramps,
Scratch Acid,
The Angels of Light,
Blossom Toes,
Smog,
Bad Manners,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.