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 Taiwan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Dead C,
Animal Collective,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Walker Brothers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
FM Einheit,
Tears for Fears,
Funkadelic,
Sun Ra,
L. Decosne,
Skriet,
Bill Wells,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Buckinghams,
Icehouse,
Rakim,
Patti Smith,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gong,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wolf Eyes,
Judy Mowatt,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grauzone,
Supertramp,
Alton Ellis,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Mummies,
Thompson Twins,
Fat Boys,
Soul II Soul,
Agent Orange,
The Motions,
Piero Umiliani,
Suburban Knight,
China Crisis,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Slits,
Mark Hollis,
Bush Tetras,
Robert Görl,
Chrome,
Boogie Down Productions,
OOIOO,
Angry Samoans,
Surgeon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
David Axelrod,
Cluster,
Pantytec,
cv313,
48th St. Collective,
the Normal,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Robert Wyatt,
Joy Division,
Chris Corsano,
Rotary Connection,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.