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 Paraguay and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rites of Spring to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Barbara Tucker,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nas,
Neil Young,
Outsiders,
The Offenders,
The Techniques,
Carl Craig,
The Monochrome Set,
the Normal,
Stockholm Monsters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
X-102,
Public Enemy,
Theoretical Girls,
Bluetip,
Boredoms,
Rites of Spring,
Visage,
Duran Duran,
Brand Nubian,
Jacques Brel,
Glenn Branca,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Evens,
Porter Ricks,
Barrington Levy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Freddie Wadling,
Sparks,
Suicide,
JFA,
Sister Nancy,
Fat Boys,
The Modern Lovers,
Minny Pops,
Inner City,
Agitation Free,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Joyce Sims,
Cymande,
The Pop Group,
The Vogues,
Flamin' Groovies,
Peter and Kerry,
Tommy Roe,
FM Einheit,
Delta 5,
8 Eyed Spy,
Oneida,
Deadbeat,
Aswad,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Scientists,
Parry Music,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Juan Atkins,
Mission of Burma,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Prince Buster,
Scion,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.