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 Slovakia and from Glasgow.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin 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 Matthew Halsall to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Juan Atkins,
Boogie Down Productions,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marmalade,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bang On A Can,
Faraquet,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gang Gang Dance,
KRS-One,
Rites of Spring,
Make Up,
Slave,
Ten City,
Robert Hood,
The Happenings,
Sandy B,
Chrome,
Average White Band,
X-102,
The Evens,
Kas Product,
Organ,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Peter & Gordon,
Rapeman,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Smoke,
ABBA,
The Neon Judgement,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fortunes,
John Coltrane,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nas,
Half Japanese,
Patti Smith,
The Moody Blues,
Aaron Thompson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marvin Gaye,
DNA,
Little Man,
Idris Muhammad,
The Young Rascals,
Chris Corsano,
Lightning Bolt,
Quando Quango,
Blossom Toes,
Ultravox,
Charles Mingus,
The Zeros,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cybotron,
Clear Light,
Masters at Work,
Gabor Szabo,
D'Angelo,
Rakim,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.