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 Austria and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Peter and Kerry to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sandy B,
Freddie Wadling,
Magma,
The Names,
Anthony Braxton,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Vladislav Delay,
Crooked Eye,
Alice Coltrane,
Anakelly,
Rites of Spring,
Yusef Lateef,
DJ Sneak,
X-102,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
X-Ray Spex,
The Gap Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Al Stewart,
Neil Young,
The Beau Brummels,
Outsiders,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Star Department,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Index,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Durutti Column,
Porter Ricks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Glenn Branca,
F. McDonald,
Chrome,
Depeche Mode,
China Crisis,
Fad Gadget,
Lou Reed,
The Barracudas,
The Busters,
Eddi Front,
Alphaville,
Blancmange,
David McCallum,
The Knickerbockers,
Mantronix,
The New Christs,
The Saints,
John Foxx,
Motorama,
The Pretty Things,
Trumans Water,
The Offenders,
Piero Umiliani,
This Heat,
Bad Manners,
The Smoke,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Slits,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.