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 Afghanistan and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Faraquet to the crunk 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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
The Grass Roots,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fortunes,
The Barracudas,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rod Modell,
Jeff Lynne,
David Axelrod,
The Five Americans,
Anakelly,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Pop Group,
T.S.O.L.,
Curtis Mayfield,
Darondo,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jeff Mills,
Nick Fraelich,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Cure,
Shuggie Otis,
Fatback Band,
Adolescents,
Ralphi Rosario,
Blake Baxter,
Parry Music,
Davy DMX,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Pretty Things,
The Busters,
Malaria!,
Gastr Del Sol,
Schoolly D,
The Litter,
Excepter,
Nas,
The Divine Comedy,
The Cramps,
Technova,
This Heat,
U.S. Maple,
Half Japanese,
John Lydon,
MC5,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Yaz,
8 Eyed Spy,
Harry Pussy,
AZ,
Lungfish,
Black Moon,
Derrick Morgan,
The Move,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Wolf Eyes,
Fat Boys,
Black Pus,
Underground Resistance,
Stiv Bators,
Spandau Ballet,
Judy Mowatt,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.