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 Saudi Arabia and from Milan.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Crispian St. Peters to the punk 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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Joyce Sims,
Stereo Dub,
The Kinks,
One Last Wish,
The Birthday Party,
Outsiders,
F. McDonald,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Magma,
Hot Snakes,
Pylon,
Radiohead,
The Vogues,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tres Demented,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Associates,
Interpol,
Swell Maps,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Talk Talk,
The Five Americans,
Bush Tetras,
Thompson Twins,
Leonard Cohen,
Sonic Youth,
Jacques Brel,
Cecil Taylor,
48th St. Collective,
The Seeds,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
DNA,
Scientists,
Brand Nubian,
Monolake,
A Certain Ratio,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hardrive,
Joey Negro,
Brass Construction,
Public Image Ltd.,
Unwound,
Warsaw,
Michelle Simonal,
Juan Atkins,
Jeff Lynne,
Ponytail,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Golliwogs,
R.M.O.,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Count Five,
Robert Hood,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Techniques,
The Last Poets,
John Coltrane,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.