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 Mauritius and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Sight & Sound 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dennis Brown,
Circle Jerks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
James White and The Blacks,
The Gladiators,
Kayak,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gichy Dan,
Organ,
The Evens,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Outsiders,
Matthew Halsall,
Ossler,
F. McDonald,
the Soft Cell,
Radiohead,
The Fortunes,
Sandy B,
The Dave Clark Five,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ituana,
Dawn Penn,
Jacques Brel,
The Young Rascals,
The Standells,
Tim Buckley,
Make Up,
Henry Cow,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Electric Prunes,
Index,
Cybotron,
Ice-T,
Marshall Jefferson,
Letta Mbulu,
Lightning Bolt,
Skriet,
Ludus,
Big Daddy Kane,
Stiv Bators,
Subhumans,
Soft Cell,
Model 500,
Khruangbin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Harry Pussy,
Gong,
The Fire Engines,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Oneida,
Minny Pops,
Little Man,
Jacob Miller,
Wally Richardson,
Black Flag,
Swell Maps,
Absolute Body Control,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.