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 Egypt and from Shanghai.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Jacques Brel to the crunk 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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Lydon,
Accadde A,
Qualms,
Connie Case,
Mr. Review,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lou Reed,
Marine Girls,
Ronnie Foster,
Procol Harum,
The Star Department,
Josef K,
Symarip,
Tim Buckley,
Tres Demented,
Porter Ricks,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Association,
Skarface,
Public Image Ltd.,
Unwound,
Todd Rundgren,
Wire,
Ultra Naté,
Kayak,
June Days,
Harmonia,
Blancmange,
Outsiders,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Negative Approach,
Pantytec,
Rufus Thomas,
The Fugs,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Count Five,
The Moleskins,
Derrick May,
Can,
ABC,
Hot Snakes,
Kerri Chandler,
The Misunderstood,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
New Age Steppers,
Ituana,
The Barracudas,
Yusef Lateef,
cv313,
Harpers Bizarre,
ABBA,
H. Thieme,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.