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 Turkey and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Country Teasers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
R.M.O.,
Neil Young,
The Doobie Brothers,
Connie Case,
the Soft Cell,
Young Marble Giants,
Ultimate Spinach,
Absolute Body Control,
Thee Headcoats,
Khruangbin,
The Last Poets,
Grey Daturas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
X-Ray Spex,
The Dead C,
Jandek,
Vladislav Delay,
Motorama,
Mad Mike,
Royal Trux,
Curtis Mayfield,
Porter Ricks,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Move,
Bluetip,
David Axelrod,
Terry Callier,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nils Olav,
Brass Construction,
Black Sheep,
Kayak,
Buzzcocks,
Darondo,
Shuggie Otis,
Ornette Coleman,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Section 25,
Joy Division,
Excepter,
Byron Stingily,
John Foxx,
ABC,
The Fugs,
Black Moon,
Vainqueur,
Television,
Intrusion,
Inner City,
Interpol,
Con Funk Shun,
The Kinks,
Hashim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Glambeats Corp.,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bobby Womack,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Aural Exciters,
The Walker Brothers,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.