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 Iraq and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the techno 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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Amon Düül,
Flipper,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nils Olav,
H. Thieme,
Pole,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Arab on Radar,
Juan Atkins,
Sixth Finger,
Mantronix,
EPMD,
Anakelly,
Scrapy,
Ohio Players,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Curtis Mayfield,
cv313,
Scion,
FM Einheit,
Procol Harum,
Derrick May,
Max Romeo,
Lightning Bolt,
Bootsy Collins,
Sonic Youth,
The Cure,
The Skatalites,
Severed Heads,
Smog,
Vainqueur,
L. Decosne,
The Vogues,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Bananas,
Electric Prunes,
Mark Hollis,
The Fuzztones,
The Moleskins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bluetip,
The Doors,
One Last Wish,
The Invisible,
The Fugs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Magazine,
Intrusion,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Chris Corsano,
Fatback Band,
Cymande,
Clear Light,
Rufus Thomas,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Sound,
Ponytail,
Talk Talk,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.