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 Lithuania and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the rock 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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Technova,
Kas Product,
Schoolly D,
The Selecter,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Knickerbockers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Circle Jerks,
Porter Ricks,
These Immortal Souls,
Todd Terry,
Minutemen,
Soulsonic Force,
Sandy B,
Malaria!,
The Fugs,
Funkadelic,
DJ Style,
Skaos,
Ultra Naté,
Freddie Wadling,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Minnie Riperton,
Carl Craig,
Henry Cow,
Slick Rick,
Grauzone,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dawn Penn,
Jerry Gold Smith,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Darondo,
Bobby Sherman,
Fatback Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Popol Vuh,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Remains,
X-101,
Oblivians,
The Slackers,
Jeff Lynne,
Bush Tetras,
Yusef Lateef,
The Five Americans,
Parry Music,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fuzztones,
Sarah Menescal,
Sound Behaviour,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cal Tjader,
The Evens,
Mission of Burma,
David Bowie,
Kurtis Blow,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Wake,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.