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 Armenia and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 808 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 The Monks to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Amazonics,
Ultra Naté,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Organ,
Angry Samoans,
The Divine Comedy,
The Five Americans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Alice Coltrane,
Anakelly,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Real Kids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tommy Roe,
Shuggie Otis,
Popol Vuh,
The Wake,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ronnie Foster,
Roger Hodgson,
Ice-T,
Panda Bear,
The Tremeloes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Alphaville,
Tres Demented,
Scan 7,
The Standells,
Barry Ungar,
The Velvet Underground,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobby Hutcherson,
PIL,
Skaos,
Boz Scaggs,
The Gun Club,
Pussy Galore,
Stetsasonic,
Pere Ubu,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Cale,
Reuben Wilson,
Rakim,
Radio Birdman,
The Moody Blues,
Spandau Ballet,
Pierre Henry,
Excepter,
Sly & The Family Stone,
F. McDonald,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fall,
Chrome,
The Seeds,
Rekid,
Ken Boothe,
Curtis Mayfield,
Archie Shepp,
Unwound,
The Saints,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.