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 Ethiopia and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Kenny Larkin to the grime 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
These Immortal Souls,
Gang Starr,
Barrington Levy,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fugs,
Matthew Bourne,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Trojans,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Star Department,
Black Bananas,
Bobby Sherman,
Boogie Down Productions,
Letta Mbulu,
the Soft Cell,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soft Cell,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Eve St. Jones,
Lyres,
Thompson Twins,
Max Romeo,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bill Wells,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pantytec,
Interpol,
Moss Icon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roxette,
Symarip,
The Count Five,
New York Dolls,
Stetsasonic,
Bad Manners,
Eddi Front,
Tommy Roe,
Silicon Teens,
The Buckinghams,
Bill Near,
The Invisible,
Joyce Sims,
Charles Mingus,
The Victims,
Tears for Fears,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Smoke,
Oblivians,
DJ Sneak,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tres Demented,
The American Breed,
June Days,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Moleskins,
The Happenings,
Derrick Morgan,
MDC,
Tropical Tobacco,
Audionom,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.