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 Tanzania and from Beijing.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the marimba 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the disco 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust 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?
Section 25,
Joyce Sims,
New Age Steppers,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Invisible,
Talk Talk,
Yellowson,
Todd Rundgren,
Darondo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
New Order,
Rotary Connection,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Sherman,
Popol Vuh,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Derrick Morgan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Panda Bear,
The American Breed,
Jeru the Damaja,
Saccharine Trust,
The Litter,
Flamin' Groovies,
Moby Grape,
Oneida,
Matthew Bourne,
Spoonie Gee,
X-101,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bang On A Can,
LL Cool J,
The Remains,
Pylon,
Avey Tare,
The Move,
Nation of Ulysses,
Crime,
The Happenings,
FM Einheit,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mandrill,
The Slackers,
E-Dancer,
Bob Dylan,
Young Marble Giants,
In Retrospect,
Soulsonic Force,
The Misunderstood,
Shuggie Otis,
The Names,
Skaos,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Stereo Dub,
John Holt,
Q65,
Infiniti,
The Associates,
Grandmaster Flash,
Faraquet,
Desert Stars,
Slave,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.