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 Sierra Leone and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mexico City.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Slick Rick to the electroclash 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Magma,
Ten City,
Jeff Mills,
Chris Corsano,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tubeway Army,
Man Parrish,
Juan Atkins,
Idris Muhammad,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Drexciya,
Bad Manners,
Gang Starr,
Minnie Riperton,
Yazoo,
Ken Boothe,
Animal Collective,
Gang of Four,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Smoke,
Delon & Dalcan,
Josef K,
The Dead C,
The Victims,
Deadbeat,
The Mojo Men,
Bauhaus,
K-Klass,
Nick Fraelich,
The Seeds,
Desert Stars,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jacques Brel,
Lyres,
Electric Prunes,
The Remains,
June Days,
Altered Images,
Fatback Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
D'Angelo,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Sonics,
Fela Kuti,
A Certain Ratio,
Circle Jerks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobby Byrd,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Janne Schatter,
The Velvet Underground,
Q65,
Erasure,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Von Mondo,
Vainqueur,
The Sound,
Lalo Schifrin,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bob Dylan,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.