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 Comoros and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Winnipeg.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 KRS-One to the jazz 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Lee Hazlewood,
Oblivians,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Offenders,
Drexciya,
Harry Pussy,
Eve St. Jones,
Sly & The Family Stone,
E-Dancer,
Pere Ubu,
Lyres,
Technova,
Pussy Galore,
Donald Byrd,
The Fuzztones,
Excepter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Music Machine,
Robert Hood,
Ohio Players,
Tomorrow,
The Remains,
Camberwell Now,
LL Cool J,
Dead Boys,
the Human League,
The Gun Club,
10cc,
June of 44,
cv313,
Juan Atkins,
Soulsonic Force,
Delon & Dalcan,
Monks,
Roy Ayers,
Pierre Henry,
Alice Coltrane,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joyce Sims,
The Grass Roots,
Kerrie Biddell,
Connie Case,
Saccharine Trust,
Vladislav Delay,
Nik Kershaw,
Agent Orange,
Roxette,
Todd Rundgren,
Camouflage,
Faraquet,
Pagans,
Silicon Teens,
DJ Style,
Lightning Bolt,
Funky Four + One,
Mr. Review,
Albert Ayler,
Kool Moe Dee,
Talk Talk,
Soft Cell,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.