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 Guyana and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the crunk 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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Blossom Toes,
Thompson Twins,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Sound,
Sex Pistols,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Y Pants,
The Five Americans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
In Retrospect,
Average White Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Outsiders,
Gabor Szabo,
The Monochrome Set,
Qualms,
Gong,
Moebius,
Ituana,
The Selecter,
Dave Gahan,
Jacques Brel,
Bluetip,
The Mummies,
Althea and Donna,
Ronnie Foster,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wings,
Bob Dylan,
Interpol,
Marvin Gaye,
Cameo,
The Fall,
The Searchers,
Inner City,
The Buckinghams,
Laurel Aitken,
DJ Style,
Prince Buster,
Wire,
Tim Buckley,
Vladislav Delay,
The Motions,
Eli Mardock,
The Human League,
Eric B and Rakim,
Howard Jones,
Hasil Adkins,
Cybotron,
Todd Terry,
Thee Headcoats,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Siglo XX,
Anakelly,
Lightning Bolt,
Shuggie Otis,
ABC,
Fela Kuti,
June Days,
the Sonics,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.