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 South Sudan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 theremin 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 The Moody Blues to the grime 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Rhythim Is Rhythim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David McCallum,
Morten Harket,
Lou Reed,
Cybotron,
Metal Thangz,
The Smiths,
Maurizio,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hasil Adkins,
Slick Rick,
The Golliwogs,
Fugazi,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Spandau Ballet,
Porter Ricks,
Piero Umiliani,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Fela Kuti,
Ponytail,
CMW,
The Fuzztones,
Marc Almond,
The Five Americans,
Kurtis Blow,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mark Hollis,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Searchers,
Sixth Finger,
R.M.O.,
Funky Four + One,
Tomorrow,
Sarah Menescal,
Make Up,
Lightning Bolt,
kango's stein massive,
Jerry's Kids,
Glenn Branca,
The Music Machine,
Eric B and Rakim,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dark Day,
Lalann,
Pole,
Pussy Galore,
Los Fastidios,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Loose Ends,
Agent Orange,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lou Christie,
Young Marble Giants,
The Flesh Eaters,
Agitation Free,
Roxette,
Donald Byrd,
Schoolly D,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.