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 Turkmenistan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 snare 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 Sexual Harrassment to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Little Man,
The Velvet Underground,
Barrington Levy,
Arcadia,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mad Mike,
Black Pus,
Amazonics,
Schoolly D,
Unwound,
Skaos,
UT,
Mo-Dettes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Camouflage,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lou Christie,
Archie Shepp,
David McCallum,
Negative Approach,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
DJ Sneak,
F. McDonald,
The Associates,
The Martian,
Gregory Isaacs,
Visage,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marine Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Roy Ayers,
Bobby Byrd,
Dawn Penn,
DNA,
Lightning Bolt,
Anakelly,
Metal Thangz,
Groovy Waters,
the Human League,
Joy Division,
The Five Americans,
Essential Logic,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
FM Einheit,
Vladislav Delay,
Index,
Chris & Cosey,
Jeff Lynne,
Hoover,
Scratch Acid,
Bill Wells,
Mark Hollis,
Deepchord,
Josef K,
Nas,
Ten City,
The Modern Lovers,
Judy Mowatt,
John Coltrane,
The Searchers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.