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 Mozambique and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 8 Eyed Spy to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jeff Mills,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Fugs,
Faraquet,
Barbara Tucker,
Panda Bear,
Juan Atkins,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lakeside,
Reuben Wilson,
The Gun Club,
The Dead C,
Gang of Four,
Terrestrial Tones,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Amon Düül,
The Black Dice,
Mr. Review,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Con Funk Shun,
Eric Dolphy,
Gichy Dan,
X-102,
The Cowsills,
Bill Wells,
Boz Scaggs,
Spoonie Gee,
The Moody Blues,
Andrew Hill,
Funky Four + One,
Big Daddy Kane,
Roy Ayers,
Sex Pistols,
Main Source,
John Lydon,
John Cale,
Warren Ellis,
Das Ding,
Mad Mike,
Tim Buckley,
Public Image Ltd.,
Minutemen,
Sun Ra,
Technova,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joe Smooth,
Ultravox,
Stetsasonic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marc Almond,
Mo-Dettes,
Alton Ellis,
Skriet,
Chrome,
Youth Brigade,
ABBA,
Idris Muhammad,
AZ,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.