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 Zimbabwe and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 organ 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 DJ Style to the disco 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Derrick May,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Derrick Morgan,
Carl Craig,
Michelle Simonal,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Skarface,
Judy Mowatt,
The Buckinghams,
Quando Quango,
Black Bananas,
Flamin' Groovies,
Johnny Osbourne,
Matthew Bourne,
Curtis Mayfield,
Trumans Water,
Sixth Finger,
Pole,
Animal Collective,
Dark Day,
Neil Young,
Maurizio,
the Bar-Kays,
Kerrie Biddell,
Silicon Teens,
Soft Cell,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Guru Guru,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Selecter,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Loose Ends,
Circle Jerks,
Wally Richardson,
Moebius,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joe Finger,
The Mojo Men,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dennis Brown,
Marvin Gaye,
World's Most,
Alphaville,
Main Source,
Joyce Sims,
Tommy Roe,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Move,
Altered Images,
Television Personalities,
Hoover,
The Fuzztones,
The Blackbyrds,
Anakelly,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Stereo Dub,
Joey Negro,
Bronski Beat,
Scion,
Pierre Henry,
The Misunderstood,
Y Pants,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.