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 Iraq and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bar-Kays to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 Saints,
Fat Boys,
Stetsasonic,
Crime,
Hot Snakes,
Los Fastidios,
Ronan,
Alison Limerick,
Boogie Down Productions,
Prince Buster,
Pussy Galore,
Maurizio,
Alice Coltrane,
Bill Near,
The Modern Lovers,
48th St. Collective,
Jacques Brel,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rosa Yemen,
Mandrill,
The Tremeloes,
Surgeon,
The Fortunes,
Franke,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Janne Schatter,
Robert Wyatt,
Cabaret Voltaire,
CMW,
Ossler,
Technova,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tropical Tobacco,
X-101,
Piero Umiliani,
Matthew Halsall,
Dark Day,
Joyce Sims,
Rod Modell,
Isaac Hayes,
The Litter,
Warsaw,
Basic Channel,
Easy Going,
The Gladiators,
Suicide,
The Victims,
Massinfluence,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Can,
Grauzone,
Soft Cell,
Adolescents,
The Golliwogs,
Deakin,
Wally Richardson,
L. Decosne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Index,
Livin' Joy,
Eden Ahbez,
the Sonics,
Bad Manners,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.