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 East Timor and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 808 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 New Order to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barclay James Harvest,
Yusef Lateef,
Ultra Naté,
The Trojans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Man Parrish,
Smog,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Robert Wyatt,
Bill Near,
The Gories,
Kas Product,
The Moleskins,
DJ Style,
Eurythmics,
The Buckinghams,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Robert Hood,
The Alarm Clocks,
Silicon Teens,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Junior Murvin,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eden Ahbez,
Shoche,
Country Teasers,
This Heat,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Donald Byrd,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Stockholm Monsters,
Robert Görl,
Lyres,
Essential Logic,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Moss Icon,
DJ Sneak,
Black Sheep,
Joensuu 1685,
Terry Callier,
Vainqueur,
The Gladiators,
Radio Birdman,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
AZ,
Ultimate Spinach,
Darondo,
Aural Exciters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Blossom Toes,
Con Funk Shun,
Bronski Beat,
Sun Ra,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scott Walker,
Y Pants,
Siglo XX,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.