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 Mauritius and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron 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 8 Eyed Spy to the rap 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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Ronan,
Letta Mbulu,
Wally Richardson,
Kool Moe Dee,
Todd Rundgren,
Soulsonic Force,
Bronski Beat,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Carl Craig,
Y Pants,
Eve St. Jones,
Model 500,
Youth Brigade,
The Leaves,
Zapp,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Cowsills,
The Sound,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aaron Thompson,
Procol Harum,
Essential Logic,
Piero Umiliani,
The Last Poets,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tim Buckley,
The Moleskins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rekid,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Associates,
FM Einheit,
Arcadia,
Mad Mike,
The Residents,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scrapy,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jesper Dahlback,
AZ,
Jacques Brel,
Sonic Youth,
Bobby Byrd,
Blossom Toes,
Q and Not U,
48th St. Collective,
Robert Görl,
Scientists,
The Names,
Parry Music,
Supertramp,
The J.B.'s,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lindisfarne,
Michelle Simonal,
Neil Young,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.