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 Maldives and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Kerri Chandler to the funk 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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '60s 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 Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Deadbeat,
Grey Daturas,
Zero Boys,
Little Man,
FM Einheit,
the Human League,
Fad Gadget,
Gerry Rafferty,
Morten Harket,
Mark Hollis,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joensuu 1685,
Harry Pussy,
The Selecter,
Roy Ayers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Gun Club,
T. Rex,
China Crisis,
Arcadia,
Pere Ubu,
Throbbing Gristle,
Todd Terry,
Patti Smith,
K-Klass,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jacob Miller,
Sparks,
Monks,
Joy Division,
The Music Machine,
Black Bananas,
Ultra Naté,
Bush Tetras,
Brand Nubian,
Delon & Dalcan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eve St. Jones,
Chris & Cosey,
John Foxx,
Kayak,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eli Mardock,
Flamin' Groovies,
Robert Wyatt,
Duran Duran,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Walker Brothers,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Kinks,
B.T. Express,
Jeru the Damaja,
Deakin,
Ornette Coleman,
Kerri Chandler,
Zapp,
Marine Girls,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.