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 Swaziland and from Lagos.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the electroclash 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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Erykah Badu,
Barrington Levy,
Soul II Soul,
Idris Muhammad,
The Motions,
The Fuzztones,
The Blues Magoos,
Ice-T,
Bauhaus,
Cameo,
Bad Manners,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
In Retrospect,
Kurtis Blow,
X-102,
Bootsy Collins,
Judy Mowatt,
EPMD,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
A Certain Ratio,
The Dirtbombs,
Albert Ayler,
E-Dancer,
the Normal,
The Buckinghams,
Fugazi,
The Gap Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Rites of Spring,
Scratch Acid,
Gregory Isaacs,
Whodini,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dark Day,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Beau Brummels,
Maurizio,
Sällskapet,
The Human League,
Lightning Bolt,
Guru Guru,
Underground Resistance,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Amazonics,
Brand Nubian,
The Zeros,
Oblivians,
Derrick Morgan,
KRS-One,
Sandy B,
Pere Ubu,
Roxy Music,
Quadrant,
Radiohead,
Thompson Twins,
The Names,
Duran Duran,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.