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 Brunei and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Brick to the dance 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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Main Source,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sparks,
Ultra Naté,
Black Moon,
Prince Buster,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Joy Division,
Gang Starr,
Judy Mowatt,
8 Eyed Spy,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Sound,
The Last Poets,
The Names,
Terry Callier,
Eric Copeland,
Skriet,
Infiniti,
Juan Atkins,
Eli Mardock,
Pole,
Skaos,
Youth Brigade,
Cluster,
a-ha,
The Victims,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Girls At Our Best!,
Marmalade,
Moby Grape,
Dual Sessions,
Janne Schatter,
The Grass Roots,
The Stooges,
UT,
Bill Wells,
Aloha Tigers,
The Index,
The Misunderstood,
David Bowie,
A Certain Ratio,
Wally Richardson,
Amazonics,
Pantaleimon,
Matthew Halsall,
Groovy Waters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Todd Rundgren,
The Selecter,
Severed Heads,
Wire,
Toni Rubio,
John Lydon,
Darondo,
Loose Ends,
The Wake,
The Standells,
Lindisfarne,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.