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 Somalia and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bremen.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sam Rivers to the crunk 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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Deadbeat,
Roy Ayers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
World's Most,
Chris & Cosey,
Barbara Tucker,
K-Klass,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mark Hollis,
Johnny Clarke,
Section 25,
Bronski Beat,
Country Teasers,
Masters at Work,
T. Rex,
Brand Nubian,
Lungfish,
Letta Mbulu,
10cc,
Mandrill,
Faust,
June Days,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Music Machine,
Dark Day,
The Invisible,
Man Parrish,
Clear Light,
The Buckinghams,
Jerry's Kids,
Pere Ubu,
Ohio Players,
Quando Quango,
The Divine Comedy,
Dennis Brown,
Eric Dolphy,
The Index,
Jeff Mills,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wasted Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
John Holt,
Guru Guru,
The J.B.'s,
Cheater Slicks,
Banda Bassotti,
Prince Buster,
One Last Wish,
The Red Krayola,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kayak,
Zapp,
Monks,
Sun Ra,
Fear,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.