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 Sudan and from Cairo.
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 Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Jacques Brel to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Basic Channel,
Jeff Lynne,
Leonard Cohen,
Anakelly,
Josef K,
Archie Shepp,
The Neon Judgement,
Q and Not U,
Sun City Girls,
Negative Approach,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pulsallama,
Scion,
Chris Corsano,
Gang Green,
Mark Hollis,
Aural Exciters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Robert Görl,
Tubeway Army,
Echospace,
Sight & Sound,
The Knickerbockers,
Angry Samoans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Godley & Creme,
Jandek,
Soulsonic Force,
Henry Cow,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kaleidoscope,
The Buckinghams,
The J.B.'s,
JFA,
Suburban Knight,
Joey Negro,
Trumans Water,
Graham Central Station,
Metal Thangz,
Interpol,
Soul II Soul,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Moby Grape,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amazonics,
The Angels of Light,
Liliput,
Ultravox,
L. Decosne,
The Moleskins,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eddi Front,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lower 48,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Slits,
Sam Rivers,
Radio Birdman,
The Selecter,
Davy DMX,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.