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 Uganda and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 spring reverb 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 Names to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Absolute Body Control,
Quantec,
Davy DMX,
Sonny Sharrock,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Arab on Radar,
The Techniques,
The Barracudas,
Bluetip,
The Toasters,
The Real Kids,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Gladiators,
The Leaves,
the Bar-Kays,
Darondo,
Patti Smith,
Quadrant,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sonic Youth,
Magma,
Maleditus Sound,
Ronan,
Isaac Hayes,
Sarah Menescal,
Icehouse,
The Velvet Underground,
June of 44,
JFA,
Juan Atkins,
Electric Prunes,
The Mummies,
The Misunderstood,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Howard Jones,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lindisfarne,
Simply Red,
Eden Ahbez,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bronski Beat,
The Five Americans,
Porter Ricks,
Marine Girls,
Second Layer,
Tropical Tobacco,
Depeche Mode,
Unrelated Segments,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Monks,
The Durutti Column,
Funky Four + One,
PIL,
Essential Logic,
Joy Division,
Minutemen,
Piero Umiliani,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The American Breed,
Underground Resistance,
Rhythm & Sound,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.