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 Tunisia and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 Tommy Roe to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Ossler,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ohio Players,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marmalade,
Wings,
Andrew Hill,
Brand Nubian,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Vladislav Delay,
the Slits,
Chrome,
The Kinks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Animal Collective,
Lyres,
Technova,
New Age Steppers,
Barbara Tucker,
Maurizio,
Pere Ubu,
the Soft Cell,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Mojo Men,
Lalann,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mo-Dettes,
New Order,
Livin' Joy,
Unrelated Segments,
The Gap Band,
The Cowsills,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Young Rascals,
Rufus Thomas,
James White and The Blacks,
Duran Duran,
Tres Demented,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Bar-Kays,
The Offenders,
Television,
Swell Maps,
Infiniti,
DJ Sneak,
Sun City Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Malaria!,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Freddie Wadling,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Avey Tare,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nils Olav,
Fugazi,
Camouflage,
Smog,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gabor Szabo,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.