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 Kiribati and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Fad Gadget to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cybotron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Make Up,
Johnny Osbourne,
Howard Jones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Robert Hood,
Crime,
Don Cherry,
Scott Walker,
Henry Cow,
Fatback Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Offenders,
Vainqueur,
a-ha,
Flipper,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Moss Icon,
Matthew Bourne,
Jandek,
Massinfluence,
Byron Stingily,
Isaac Hayes,
Joyce Sims,
T.S.O.L.,
Ituana,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gap Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gabor Szabo,
LL Cool J,
EPMD,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Y Pants,
Andrew Hill,
Siglo XX,
Monolake,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bauhaus,
F. McDonald,
The Wake,
The Velvet Underground,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dorothy Ashby,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Alarm Clocks,
Arcadia,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Eden Ahbez,
Black Bananas,
The Sound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Maleditus Sound,
L. Decosne,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dead Boys,
Boz Scaggs,
The J.B.'s,
Judy Mowatt,
Delon & Dalcan,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.