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 Serbia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dark Day to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
The Selecter,
The Names,
Ralphi Rosario,
Godley & Creme,
Lou Christie,
Arab on Radar,
Barclay James Harvest,
Khruangbin,
Eric Dolphy,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Misunderstood,
Hasil Adkins,
F. McDonald,
Funky Four + One,
John Lydon,
Alton Ellis,
Siglo XX,
Spoonie Gee,
Eden Ahbez,
Spandau Ballet,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Velvet Underground,
Cybotron,
The Blues Magoos,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Victims,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Brand Nubian,
Scan 7,
Fear,
La Düsseldorf,
Steve Hackett,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Gladiators,
The Fortunes,
Chrome,
Y Pants,
Black Flag,
the Soft Cell,
This Heat,
Dave Gahan,
Alison Limerick,
Vladislav Delay,
John Cale,
Dual Sessions,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Moebius,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Aswad,
The Electric Prunes,
Schoolly D,
Sarah Menescal,
Blancmange,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Yellowson,
Brothers Johnson,
the Swans,
Livin' Joy,
Goldenarms,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.