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 Philippines and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Letta Mbulu to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sällskapet,
Lindisfarne,
Khruangbin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Interpol,
Gang of Four,
The Fire Engines,
Cybotron,
The Mojo Men,
The Offenders,
Sunsets and Hearts,
John Coltrane,
Jeff Mills,
Barry Ungar,
Monks,
Stetsasonic,
Television,
Matthew Halsall,
X-102,
June Days,
Cluster,
Talk Talk,
Gong,
The Modern Lovers,
Negative Approach,
Stockholm Monsters,
ABBA,
The Fortunes,
Mantronix,
Harmonia,
Yazoo,
Henry Cow,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Wake,
Wolf Eyes,
Flash Fearless,
Hoover,
Thompson Twins,
The Mummies,
Piero Umiliani,
The Zeros,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
EPMD,
Mr. Review,
Sex Pistols,
Simply Red,
The Stooges,
H. Thieme,
Byron Stingily,
Vainqueur,
The Velvet Underground,
the Bar-Kays,
Soulsonic Force,
Qualms,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dennis Brown,
John Holt,
FM Einheit,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.