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 Lesotho and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Holger Czukay 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 Yaz to the crunk 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Guru Guru,
Althea and Donna,
Jeff Lynne,
Y Pants,
X-101,
Gang of Four,
Cluster,
The Walker Brothers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Robert Hood,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Max Romeo,
Alton Ellis,
Fad Gadget,
Heaven 17,
Japan,
Cal Tjader,
Nick Fraelich,
The American Breed,
Piero Umiliani,
Matthew Bourne,
Soul II Soul,
F. McDonald,
Niagra,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Modern Lovers,
The Last Poets,
Bush Tetras,
Chrome,
Deadbeat,
Sarah Menescal,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
H. Thieme,
The Standells,
Robert Wyatt,
Aloha Tigers,
Stiv Bators,
Stetsasonic,
Leonard Cohen,
Ultravox,
Mo-Dettes,
Silicon Teens,
Janne Schatter,
Stereo Dub,
Visage,
Theoretical Girls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Slick Rick,
Q65,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Metal Thangz,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tommy Roe,
Pagans,
DJ Style,
Skaos,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Monks,
Eddi Front,
The Sonics,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.