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 Sudan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 One Last Wish to the disco 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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Sun City Girls,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ice-T,
Robert Hood,
Zapp,
The Offenders,
Electric Prunes,
E-Dancer,
Suicide,
The Dirtbombs,
Cymande,
Agent Orange,
Eddi Front,
The Golliwogs,
L. Decosne,
Wolf Eyes,
Peter & Gordon,
Davy DMX,
The Slackers,
Absolute Body Control,
Lalo Schifrin,
Blancmange,
Average White Band,
The Raincoats,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Oblivians,
Babytalk,
B.T. Express,
Interpol,
The Angels of Light,
Accadde A,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lindisfarne,
Hardrive,
Monks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Happenings,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
June of 44,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Vladislav Delay,
Theoretical Girls,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Music Machine,
The Victims,
World's Most,
Ten City,
Cecil Taylor,
The Selecter,
Aswad,
Sixth Finger,
Pet Shop Boys,
Anthony Braxton,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Altered Images,
Bootsy Collins,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.