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 Tanzania and from Paris.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 güiro 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 The Music Machine to the funk 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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Spandau Ballet,
Anakelly,
Scan 7,
Sam Rivers,
Joey Negro,
The Music Machine,
Jawbox,
Black Flag,
Bobby Sherman,
Barbara Tucker,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ossler,
Whodini,
Chris Corsano,
Marmalade,
The Toasters,
Khruangbin,
Jeff Mills,
Fluxion,
Supertramp,
Schoolly D,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Offenders,
Robert Görl,
Oblivians,
Brick,
Rites of Spring,
The Five Americans,
JFA,
Erykah Badu,
Wasted Youth,
L. Decosne,
Shuggie Otis,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Accadde A,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
X-Ray Spex,
Joyce Sims,
Von Mondo,
James White and The Blacks,
Lightning Bolt,
The Doobie Brothers,
AZ,
Nik Kershaw,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Amon Düül II,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mad Mike,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Henry Cow,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Cure,
Ituana,
Buzzcocks,
Sixth Finger,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Q and Not U,
John Coltrane,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.