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 Honduras and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 güiro 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 The Fall to the rap 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Nils Olav,
Groovy Waters,
Parry Music,
Leonard Cohen,
The United States of America,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ituana,
June of 44,
Kurtis Blow,
Radio Birdman,
Ice-T,
Little Man,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Modern Lovers,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Inner City,
Loose Ends,
Dark Day,
Rakim,
the Swans,
CMW,
Blossom Toes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Moon,
Ronan,
Alphaville,
the Bar-Kays,
Can,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Slick Rick,
Eric Dolphy,
Liliput,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Graham Central Station,
Todd Rundgren,
The Barracudas,
Wasted Youth,
Warren Ellis,
Von Mondo,
D'Angelo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Grandmaster Flash,
A Certain Ratio,
Roxy Music,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Colin Newman,
The Fall,
Laurel Aitken,
Bauhaus,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Misunderstood,
The Associates,
Sarah Menescal,
China Crisis,
The Selecter,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nick Fraelich,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.