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 Iceland and from New York.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
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 Eddi Front 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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ultra Naté,
KRS-One,
Bob Dylan,
Ponytail,
OOIOO,
Black Flag,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Electric Prunes,
Television,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kenny Larkin,
The Mojo Men,
Nation of Ulysses,
a-ha,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Connie Case,
R.M.O.,
The Sound,
Kas Product,
K-Klass,
Fear,
Rites of Spring,
The Litter,
Infiniti,
the Sonics,
Echospace,
The Toasters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Boogie Down Productions,
Reuben Wilson,
Talk Talk,
Scratch Acid,
The Red Krayola,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Vogues,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tubeway Army,
Todd Rundgren,
Roxy Music,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fela Kuti,
Man Eating Sloth,
Accadde A,
Ralphi Rosario,
Faraquet,
Big Daddy Kane,
Isaac Hayes,
Lyres,
Cheater Slicks,
MC5,
Nico,
Pantaleimon,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Dirtbombs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Human League,
Scion,
Panda Bear,
Gang of Four,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.