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 Italy and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 theremin 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Association,
Underground Resistance,
The Happenings,
Little Man,
DJ Sneak,
MC5,
Cybotron,
Clear Light,
Bill Wells,
The Pop Group,
Masters at Work,
Cluster,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Y Pants,
H. Thieme,
cv313,
Bang On A Can,
Frankie Knuckles,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hasil Adkins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Gladiators,
Black Pus,
Hashim,
Godley & Creme,
Suburban Knight,
Deepchord,
a-ha,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Normal,
The Monks,
Hardrive,
Sonic Youth,
Laurel Aitken,
the Human League,
Black Bananas,
Gerry Rafferty,
Banda Bassotti,
F. McDonald,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Knickerbockers,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Brass Construction,
Pulsallama,
LL Cool J,
Swans,
Funky Four + One,
Rufus Thomas,
June Days,
Nas,
Morten Harket,
Minnie Riperton,
Can,
Crooked Eye,
Harmonia,
Sixth Finger,
Barbara Tucker,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Saints,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.