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 Zimbabwe and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet 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 The Cowsills to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kaleidoscope,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gun Club,
Cymande,
Tim Buckley,
Junior Murvin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
DJ Style,
Dark Day,
Bad Manners,
Soul II Soul,
Tom Boy,
In Retrospect,
Angry Samoans,
Livin' Joy,
Ronan,
Crispian St. Peters,
U.S. Maple,
Ultimate Spinach,
Motorama,
The Fuzztones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Index,
Wings,
Amazonics,
Animal Collective,
Main Source,
Zapp,
Nik Kershaw,
Index,
Alphaville,
Loose Ends,
Monks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sister Nancy,
Davy DMX,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Barbara Tucker,
Flipper,
Agitation Free,
Niagra,
Average White Band,
John Holt,
Sonny Sharrock,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Doors,
Harpers Bizarre,
Public Enemy,
The Wake,
The Saints,
Joyce Sims,
Swans,
10cc,
Buzzcocks,
Lalann,
Piero Umiliani,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.