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 Kuwait and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet 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 Brothers Johnson to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Alton Ellis,
Suicide,
Minor Threat,
Alphaville,
The Moody Blues,
Aloha Tigers,
Avey Tare,
Vladislav Delay,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Livin' Joy,
Chris & Cosey,
Agitation Free,
Y Pants,
Oneida,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Walker Brothers,
Faust,
Kurtis Blow,
The Neon Judgement,
The Slits,
Fear,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Danielle Patucci,
Connie Case,
Dawn Penn,
Scan 7,
Mission of Burma,
Lakeside,
AZ,
10cc,
The Skatalites,
Flash Fearless,
The Blues Magoos,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Boredoms,
Henry Cow,
Pole,
Make Up,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mark Hollis,
Ponytail,
Harpers Bizarre,
The United States of America,
John Holt,
New Order,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Wasted Youth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Freddie Wadling,
Neu!,
Television,
Sällskapet,
Surgeon,
Stiv Bators,
Sight & Sound,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Siglo XX,
The Misunderstood,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.