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 Sierra Leone and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Madrid.
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 organ 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 Prince Buster to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Wasted Youth,
Hoover,
Amazonics,
Mission of Burma,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arab on Radar,
Crash Course in Science,
Barbara Tucker,
The Doors,
The Flesh Eaters,
Silicon Teens,
The Birthday Party,
Siglo XX,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Barrington Levy,
Half Japanese,
Mo-Dettes,
Neil Young,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Junior Murvin,
Monolake,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Cramps,
Mars,
Marshall Jefferson,
UT,
June of 44,
Lucky Dragons,
FM Einheit,
The Young Rascals,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Erasure,
Sugar Minott,
Schoolly D,
The Fire Engines,
the Bar-Kays,
Bluetip,
The Shadows of Knight,
Alphaville,
Donny Hathaway,
Icehouse,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Foxx,
Idris Muhammad,
Young Marble Giants,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Avey Tare,
Joey Negro,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cluster,
Bobby Sherman,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tres Demented,
Fat Boys,
A Flock of Seagulls,
These Immortal Souls,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.