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 Austria and from Toronto.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Thompson Twins to the jazz 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Angry Samoans,
Wally Richardson,
The Happenings,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eric Dolphy,
Ponytail,
Robert Hood,
Man Parrish,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dawn Penn,
Y Pants,
Liliput,
Porter Ricks,
Surgeon,
Lower 48,
Guru Guru,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Von Mondo,
Maleditus Sound,
New Age Steppers,
The Tremeloes,
The Kinks,
Matthew Bourne,
Johnny Osbourne,
Delon & Dalcan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Babytalk,
Scratch Acid,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Grass Roots,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The J.B.'s,
the Swans,
Sight & Sound,
Ten City,
The Pretty Things,
Underground Resistance,
Buzzcocks,
The Barracudas,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Terry Callier,
Faraquet,
Das Ding,
Archie Shepp,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mantronix,
Slick Rick,
Lou Christie,
Curtis Mayfield,
Oneida,
The Fire Engines,
Duran Duran,
Rufus Thomas,
Funky Four + One,
The Slackers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Faust,
The Count Five,
The Black Dice,
Donald Byrd,
The Golliwogs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.