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 Russia and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 synthesizer 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 Black Sheep to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Radio Birdman,
Scientists,
Rosa Yemen,
The Blackbyrds,
Bob Dylan,
Max Romeo,
Hoover,
Eve St. Jones,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Davy DMX,
Toni Rubio,
Grauzone,
Minor Threat,
Brand Nubian,
Hasil Adkins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Von Mondo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Donny Hathaway,
Chrome,
Pussy Galore,
Loose Ends,
PIL,
Flash Fearless,
Sound Behaviour,
Lakeside,
Eurythmics,
The Mummies,
Blossom Toes,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Slits,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Blues Magoos,
Andrew Hill,
The Cowsills,
The J.B.'s,
Moss Icon,
Aural Exciters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Arab on Radar,
Albert Ayler,
Magazine,
The Grass Roots,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Amon Düül,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
F. McDonald,
the Fania All-Stars,
Spoonie Gee,
Index,
X-102,
China Crisis,
Erasure,
Sly & The Family Stone,
New York Dolls,
Jandek,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultra Naté,
Television,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.