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 Georgia and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Subhumans to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Girls At Our Best!,
Franke,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Gladiators,
The Busters,
Soul II Soul,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Sheep,
Erykah Badu,
Black Pus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rites of Spring,
X-Ray Spex,
Deakin,
Guru Guru,
Nick Fraelich,
Cybotron,
Hoover,
Echospace,
Siglo XX,
Sarah Menescal,
the Association,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lakeside,
Rotary Connection,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Toasters,
Tres Demented,
Lalann,
Monks,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Sherman,
Hardrive,
Delta 5,
Sound Behaviour,
Crash Course in Science,
Warren Ellis,
Robert Hood,
Andrew Hill,
Arcadia,
Mantronix,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pylon,
Rufus Thomas,
Electric Prunes,
Popol Vuh,
Michelle Simonal,
The Blues Magoos,
Wally Richardson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aaron Thompson,
Prince Buster,
Lou Reed,
Gichy Dan,
The Angels of Light,
Ronan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pagans,
The Dead C,
Crispy Ambulance,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Derrick May,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.