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 Angola and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Funkadelic to the rap 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Steve Hackett,
DJ Style,
Spoonie Gee,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kevin Saunderson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fugazi,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nirvana,
MC5,
Marmalade,
Groovy Waters,
Derrick Morgan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Trojans,
Pole,
James White and The Blacks,
The Remains,
Jacob Miller,
Franke,
Smog,
The Detroit Cobras,
Connie Case,
Peter and Kerry,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tears for Fears,
New Order,
Can,
Aloha Tigers,
Don Cherry,
PIL,
Lower 48,
The Selecter,
The Residents,
David Bowie,
Robert Hood,
Rotary Connection,
Eric B and Rakim,
Alphaville,
The Sound,
K-Klass,
Second Layer,
Gichy Dan,
Flash Fearless,
Quadrant,
Dennis Brown,
Deadbeat,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wasted Youth,
The Motions,
Goldenarms,
Electric Prunes,
Radio Birdman,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tom Boy,
Moss Icon,
Wolf Eyes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.