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 Qatar and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Minnie Riperton to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Freddie Wadling,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alton Ellis,
Barbara Tucker,
Toni Rubio,
The Selecter,
Brick,
Judy Mowatt,
New Order,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Invisible,
the Human League,
Scan 7,
Joensuu 1685,
Stockholm Monsters,
Andrew Hill,
Quantec,
The Durutti Column,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Das Ding,
Ronan,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crime,
Derrick May,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ponytail,
Livin' Joy,
Chris & Cosey,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gang Starr,
Nico,
Mad Mike,
The Techniques,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bang On A Can,
The Sonics,
Theoretical Girls,
The Golliwogs,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gladiators,
The Angels of Light,
Crooked Eye,
The Music Machine,
James White and The Blacks,
The Wake,
Gregory Isaacs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fire Engines,
Thompson Twins,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
David McCallum,
Laurel Aitken,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Icehouse,
Fugazi,
Gil Scott Heron,
Moby Grape,
Grandmaster Flash,
Minnie Riperton,
Joey Negro,
Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin.
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.