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 Venezuela and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 the Fania All-Stars to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Hot Snakes,
Pole,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jawbox,
Negative Approach,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Soft Cell,
Dave Gahan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Byron Stingily,
Camouflage,
This Heat,
Man Parrish,
Big Daddy Kane,
Average White Band,
Fugazi,
Panda Bear,
The Birthday Party,
The Busters,
Neu!,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arab on Radar,
Radiopuhelimet,
Thompson Twins,
John Cale,
Joey Negro,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kerri Chandler,
Alphaville,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Porter Ricks,
Eddi Front,
AZ,
The Slits,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Five Americans,
Marine Girls,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Real Kids,
The Angels of Light,
Symarip,
Bang On A Can,
FM Einheit,
Howard Jones,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Silicon Teens,
48th St. Collective,
Juan Atkins,
The Neon Judgement,
Gang Gang Dance,
Stiv Bators,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bizarre Inc.,
Yazoo,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.