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 Lagos.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Blossom Toes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ludus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lower 48,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lyres,
Gang Gang Dance,
Clear Light,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crooked Eye,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Yazoo,
Tommy Roe,
Black Pus,
Black Bananas,
D'Angelo,
Cecil Taylor,
Metal Thangz,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Neon Judgement,
Brass Construction,
10cc,
The Associates,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Dennis Brown,
Ice-T,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scientists,
Duran Duran,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Slits,
Spoonie Gee,
Johnny Osbourne,
Au Pairs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
David McCallum,
Thee Headcoats,
Ultimate Spinach,
Soulsonic Force,
Robert Görl,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Henry Cow,
Ultravox,
Glambeats Corp.,
One Last Wish,
Das Ding,
Masters at Work,
Eli Mardock,
The Fortunes,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Peter and Kerry,
Oneida,
Zero Boys,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.