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 Sri Lanka and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jeff Mills to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Pylon,
The Human League,
Pulsallama,
Archie Shepp,
Schoolly D,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fire Engines,
Ohio Players,
Charles Mingus,
Juan Atkins,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gang of Four,
Mandrill,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bill Near,
Magazine,
Bill Wells,
Crooked Eye,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marine Girls,
Joey Negro,
Gang Starr,
The Fugs,
Pussy Galore,
Loose Ends,
The Knickerbockers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Coltrane,
Neu!,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
ABBA,
Gichy Dan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fat Boys,
The Fortunes,
Stetsasonic,
The Moody Blues,
Magma,
Boz Scaggs,
Lou Christie,
The Electric Prunes,
Lindisfarne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Japan,
the Association,
DJ Sneak,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Gladiators,
Wings,
Icehouse,
Marc Almond,
Isaac Hayes,
Soul II Soul,
Saccharine Trust,
Excepter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Blake Baxter,
A Certain Ratio,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.