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 Malaysia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Arcadia to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Chris Corsano,
David Axelrod,
Severed Heads,
DJ Sneak,
Susan Cadogan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Reuben Wilson,
The Electric Prunes,
Jacob Miller,
Wolf Eyes,
Todd Rundgren,
Black Pus,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Rekid,
Kevin Saunderson,
Das Ding,
Von Mondo,
Aloha Tigers,
Spandau Ballet,
Circle Jerks,
The Seeds,
Wally Richardson,
Motorama,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Minnie Riperton,
Pharoah Sanders,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Monks,
Arcadia,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rod Modell,
Symarip,
Surgeon,
The Grass Roots,
Barry Ungar,
Underground Resistance,
James White and The Blacks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Radio Birdman,
The Sound,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Chris & Cosey,
Mandrill,
Connie Case,
Grey Daturas,
Rites of Spring,
Joyce Sims,
The Monochrome Set,
The Fuzztones,
Loose Ends,
The Divine Comedy,
Cybotron,
Tears for Fears,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eric Copeland,
Negative Approach,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Qualms,
Hashim,
Lakeside,
Deakin,
Marvin Gaye,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.