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 Indonesia and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet 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 Curtis Mayfield to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Swans,
Kenny Larkin,
Joensuu 1685,
Accadde A,
The Slits,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Eurythmics,
Sun City Girls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Warsaw,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
Animal Collective,
Oneida,
Monolake,
The Happenings,
John Cale,
PIL,
The Toasters,
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare,
Nils Olav,
Johnny Clarke,
Simply Red,
The Index,
Parry Music,
Donald Byrd,
Mission of Burma,
Harpers Bizarre,
Liliput,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kayak,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nick Fraelich,
Robert Görl,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sister Nancy,
Clear Light,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pussy Galore,
Severed Heads,
The Detroit Cobras,
Morten Harket,
Von Mondo,
Depeche Mode,
Babytalk,
Suicide,
U.S. Maple,
Ken Boothe,
Barbara Tucker,
In Retrospect,
Lalo Schifrin,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Germs,
Hasil Adkins,
Gang Starr,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dawn Penn,
The Dirtbombs,
John Holt,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.