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 Micronesia 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 DNA to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Angry Samoans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Arab on Radar,
Simply Red,
The New Christs,
The Golliwogs,
Andrew Hill,
Henry Cow,
Franke,
Mandrill,
The Mojo Men,
Kerrie Biddell,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dual Sessions,
Kerri Chandler,
Loose Ends,
The Misunderstood,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eve St. Jones,
Kas Product,
Warren Ellis,
Kayak,
Make Up,
The Flesh Eaters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Main Source,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Happenings,
Pantytec,
Kenny Larkin,
Bang On A Can,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bootsy Collins,
The Names,
Prince Buster,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Warsaw,
Shuggie Otis,
Circle Jerks,
Jandek,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Stooges,
Janne Schatter,
Maleditus Sound,
Oblivians,
Mr. Review,
Cluster,
The Offenders,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Agent Orange,
Flash Fearless,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Radio Birdman,
Public Enemy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dorothy Ashby,
EPMD,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.