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 United States and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
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 sitar 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 The Dirtbombs to the techno 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck 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?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ludus,
Dave Gahan,
Ultimate Spinach,
Blake Baxter,
The Vogues,
Warren Ellis,
Isaac Hayes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jeff Mills,
Magazine,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Dead C,
The United States of America,
Black Pus,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Last Poets,
Thee Headcoats,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ituana,
Mantronix,
the Bar-Kays,
Jesper Dahlback,
Theoretical Girls,
Accadde A,
Ronan,
Vainqueur,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Loose Ends,
Lakeside,
Nik Kershaw,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bluetip,
Lalo Schifrin,
Boredoms,
Crime,
John Coltrane,
Ten City,
The New Christs,
Bauhaus,
Reuben Wilson,
Bill Wells,
the Soft Cell,
Lou Christie,
Suburban Knight,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Busters,
The Offenders,
Bobby Byrd,
June of 44,
Gastr Del Sol,
Idris Muhammad,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scion,
Country Teasers,
Interpol,
Archie Shepp,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gil Scott Heron,
Moss Icon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.