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 Macedonia and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
B.T. Express,
Skarface,
Mantronix,
Derrick May,
Wally Richardson,
Lucky Dragons,
Skaos,
The Smiths,
Ultimate Spinach,
Donny Hathaway,
Intrusion,
Charles Mingus,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Soft Cell,
Connie Case,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Quadrant,
The Mojo Men,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Juan Atkins,
The Black Dice,
The Monochrome Set,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fela Kuti,
Metal Thangz,
Faraquet,
Pulsallama,
Pantaleimon,
Sparks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Robert Görl,
Heaven 17,
Magazine,
Parry Music,
Soulsonic Force,
Mark Hollis,
DJ Sneak,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Inner City,
Hardrive,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Electric Prunes,
Kerri Chandler,
The Leaves,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Funkadelic,
Lyres,
Oneida,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fad Gadget,
The Shadows of Knight,
X-102,
Skriet,
Dennis Brown,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Brand Nubian,
Simply Red,
The Buckinghams,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.