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 Marshall Islands and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Symarip to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Association,
DJ Style,
Chrome,
Brothers Johnson,
The Black Dice,
Soft Cell,
New Order,
Goldenarms,
Y Pants,
Ossler,
Amon Düül,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bizarre Inc.,
Slave,
Boz Scaggs,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Velvet Underground,
The Stooges,
Cheater Slicks,
Grauzone,
Deakin,
Juan Atkins,
The Fire Engines,
Man Parrish,
The Gladiators,
The New Christs,
Piero Umiliani,
Sixth Finger,
Warren Ellis,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Alphaville,
Harry Pussy,
Infiniti,
LL Cool J,
Gang Gang Dance,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Boredoms,
Minor Threat,
The Electric Prunes,
the Bar-Kays,
The Sound,
Erykah Badu,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Sonics,
Metal Thangz,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crooked Eye,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fad Gadget,
Depeche Mode,
Barrington Levy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Loose Ends,
Von Mondo,
Shuggie Otis,
Moebius,
Shoche,
Arthur Verocai,
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.