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 Ghana and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Arthur Verocai to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Soft Cell,
Visage,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Silicon Teens,
Neu!,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jeff Mills,
Loose Ends,
One Last Wish,
Clear Light,
Donald Byrd,
The Martian,
The Monochrome Set,
Cal Tjader,
The Five Americans,
The Cure,
Max Romeo,
Boogie Down Productions,
Reuben Wilson,
Con Funk Shun,
K-Klass,
Deadbeat,
Gang of Four,
Brothers Johnson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eric Copeland,
Toni Rubio,
The Saints,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bill Wells,
Dual Sessions,
Rites of Spring,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wally Richardson,
Newcleus,
Agent Orange,
Aswad,
Brick,
Bronski Beat,
Pylon,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fuzztones,
Terrestrial Tones,
LL Cool J,
Carl Craig,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joey Negro,
Tubeway Army,
Wings,
David Bowie,
Fat Boys,
Roy Ayers,
Pantytec,
These Immortal Souls,
The Sound,
Lucky Dragons,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.