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 Libya and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Taipei and Delhi.
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 chamberlin 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 A Certain Ratio to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Panda Bear,
MDC,
Pantaleimon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fat Boys,
Sex Pistols,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Bananas,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
DJ Sneak,
Derrick May,
Terrestrial Tones,
Q and Not U,
Das Ding,
the Slits,
Barrington Levy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Index,
Aaron Thompson,
Chris Corsano,
Gregory Isaacs,
Don Cherry,
DJ Style,
Scion,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marc Almond,
Radio Birdman,
The Dirtbombs,
D'Angelo,
Eric Copeland,
The United States of America,
The Monochrome Set,
The Divine Comedy,
Jawbox,
Barry Ungar,
The Happenings,
E-Dancer,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Monks,
Deadbeat,
Crime,
Bush Tetras,
Audionom,
Frankie Knuckles,
Vladislav Delay,
Nirvana,
The Vogues,
Jandek,
MC5,
the Bar-Kays,
Swell Maps,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Q65,
Roy Ayers,
Colin Newman,
Kevin Saunderson,
Second Layer,
The Kinks,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Residents,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.