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 Slovakia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Tubeway Army,
Cecil Taylor,
Charles Mingus,
Tears for Fears,
Q and Not U,
Swans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Essential Logic,
Lakeside,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mr. Review,
Barbara Tucker,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scion,
Yellowson,
Symarip,
Eddi Front,
Unwound,
Guru Guru,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sällskapet,
Blancmange,
Ossler,
Marc Almond,
Jerry's Kids,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Electric Prunes,
D'Angelo,
Rites of Spring,
Tomorrow,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eric Dolphy,
Mad Mike,
Hardrive,
Roxy Music,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rotary Connection,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Royal Trux,
Agent Orange,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Donny Hathaway,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Alice Coltrane,
Janne Schatter,
The Monks,
The Gladiators,
Hashim,
The Red Krayola,
Lou Christie,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
E-Dancer,
Niagra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
X-Ray Spex,
10cc,
New Age Steppers,
The Cowsills,
Henry Cow,
The Music Machine,
Loose Ends,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.