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 Grenada and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Stockholm Monsters to the funk 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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Brick,
Joe Smooth,
Animal Collective,
Qualms,
Sällskapet,
Nils Olav,
Blossom Toes,
Janne Schatter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Todd Terry,
Tropical Tobacco,
MC5,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Alarm Clocks,
Vainqueur,
Barry Ungar,
Chris Corsano,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Blues Magoos,
Lungfish,
June of 44,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jacques Brel,
Sixth Finger,
Inner City,
Kas Product,
China Crisis,
Arthur Verocai,
Henry Cow,
The Electric Prunes,
The Star Department,
Underground Resistance,
Marvin Gaye,
Minnie Riperton,
Iggy Pop,
Metal Thangz,
The Five Americans,
The Raincoats,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crooked Eye,
F. McDonald,
Bizarre Inc.,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Buckinghams,
Rakim,
Sight & Sound,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Y Pants,
Anakelly,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gil Scott Heron,
The American Breed,
Eric B and Rakim,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
kango's stein massive,
Barclay James Harvest,
Easy Going,
Brothers Johnson,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.