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 Luxembourg and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 DNA to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
L. Decosne,
Fat Boys,
The Toasters,
Erykah Badu,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marvin Gaye,
Heaven 17,
Aaron Thompson,
Pylon,
Nico,
La Düsseldorf,
Alison Limerick,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Soft Cell,
Niagra,
Cymande,
Spandau Ballet,
Aswad,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Chris & Cosey,
Ludus,
Connie Case,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Association,
Young Marble Giants,
Tim Buckley,
UT,
David Bowie,
Fear,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Television Personalities,
Ornette Coleman,
Agitation Free,
Todd Rundgren,
Pharoah Sanders,
Angry Samoans,
Funkadelic,
Black Moon,
The Fortunes,
Sarah Menescal,
Jawbox,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Make Up,
Sam Rivers,
Circle Jerks,
Oneida,
Easy Going,
Camberwell Now,
Chrome,
The Leaves,
Gichy Dan,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rufus Thomas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mr. Review,
Supertramp,
Smog,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.