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 Korea North and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 marimba 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
The Durutti Column,
The Fugs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Peter and Kerry,
Tres Demented,
June Days,
Erasure,
The Beau Brummels,
The Associates,
Iggy Pop,
Accadde A,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Smoke,
Pole,
Wings,
The Grass Roots,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gladiators,
Max Romeo,
Yazoo,
Quantec,
The Invisible,
Mark Hollis,
Khruangbin,
Dark Day,
Wally Richardson,
Supertramp,
Warsaw,
Sugar Minott,
Saccharine Trust,
Danielle Patucci,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Evens,
The United States of America,
The Black Dice,
Aural Exciters,
Tommy Roe,
Cheater Slicks,
Ultravox,
Sonic Youth,
Wasted Youth,
Lakeside,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ossler,
Juan Atkins,
Blossom Toes,
Panda Bear,
The Real Kids,
Smog,
Scan 7,
The Toasters,
Grauzone,
Basic Channel,
Cecil Taylor,
Joe Finger,
Urselle,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.