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 Australia and from Toronto.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Germs to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
48th St. Collective,
Japan,
Subhumans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Zapp,
Soulsonic Force,
Television,
Cluster,
Warsaw,
The Beau Brummels,
Shoche,
Pet Shop Boys,
Adolescents,
Alison Limerick,
Black Sheep,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Chris Corsano,
Black Bananas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Morten Harket,
Whodini,
Bobby Womack,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bobby Byrd,
The Misunderstood,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Residents,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Anakelly,
Nik Kershaw,
The Cramps,
Bootsy Collins,
Funkadelic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Fortunes,
Gang Green,
Clear Light,
Circle Jerks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Can,
Dorothy Ashby,
Trumans Water,
Nils Olav,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Simply Red,
Gastr Del Sol,
Brothers Johnson,
Joe Smooth,
Moebius,
Young Marble Giants,
Dual Sessions,
Scratch Acid,
Pantaleimon,
Rakim,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.