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 Denmark and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marcia Griffiths to the funk 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 The Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Sister Nancy,
Donny Hathaway,
The Pretty Things,
Flipper,
Oneida,
Nils Olav,
Model 500,
Panda Bear,
Talk Talk,
Marine Girls,
Carl Craig,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sparks,
Parry Music,
Basic Channel,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Knickerbockers,
Laurel Aitken,
Roxy Music,
The Golliwogs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Cal Tjader,
Pierre Henry,
Sun Ra,
Ronan,
Don Cherry,
Bang On A Can,
Skriet,
The Remains,
Newcleus,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Bar-Kays,
The Durutti Column,
Sound Behaviour,
The Angels of Light,
The Wake,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kurtis Blow,
the Association,
Lungfish,
Patti Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
Arab on Radar,
Black Moon,
Maleditus Sound,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cybotron,
Tres Demented,
John Lydon,
New York Dolls,
Dave Gahan,
The Kinks,
Aural Exciters,
Flash Fearless,
Pulsallama,
John Cale,
Connie Case,
Donald Byrd,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.