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 Cyprus and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lalo Schifrin to the rap 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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
Junior Murvin,
Alice Coltrane,
Lungfish,
Lalann,
Swell Maps,
The Divine Comedy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Sherman,
Nico,
New Order,
PIL,
Monolake,
Agitation Free,
Roxette,
D'Angelo,
Bill Wells,
The Walker Brothers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fifty Foot Hose,
OOIOO,
Ultravox,
Derrick Morgan,
Delta 5,
Saccharine Trust,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Johnny Clarke,
Carl Craig,
Wasted Youth,
Brand Nubian,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Matthew Bourne,
Tim Buckley,
Electric Prunes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ossler,
Model 500,
Blancmange,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sällskapet,
Andrew Hill,
Big Daddy Kane,
Albert Ayler,
Eric Dolphy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Moebius,
The Motions,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dual Sessions,
Ituana,
Silicon Teens,
Pagans,
E-Dancer,
Mo-Dettes,
June of 44,
Masters at Work,
The Knickerbockers,
Easy Going,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.