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 Panama and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin 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 Depeche Mode to the rap 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bang On A Can,
Scratch Acid,
Ken Boothe,
Shuggie Otis,
John Lydon,
Moebius,
Swell Maps,
The Misunderstood,
Dawn Penn,
Jandek,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Visage,
Lalo Schifrin,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dorothy Ashby,
Alison Limerick,
Alton Ellis,
Bronski Beat,
Ornette Coleman,
Janne Schatter,
Stereo Dub,
Massinfluence,
Brick,
Camouflage,
Eden Ahbez,
Lucky Dragons,
the Germs,
One Last Wish,
Easy Going,
Banda Bassotti,
Dave Gahan,
Cymande,
Harpers Bizarre,
Index,
The Barracudas,
The Seeds,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Golliwogs,
Moss Icon,
Camberwell Now,
Nas,
Scion,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dual Sessions,
Wings,
Simply Red,
Juan Atkins,
Mars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Pop Group,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Crispian St. Peters,
China Crisis,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Saints,
Harry Pussy,
Barry Ungar,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.