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 Malaysia and from Madrid.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Subhumans to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Crime,
The Offenders,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jacques Brel,
Slick Rick,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alphaville,
Massinfluence,
Sex Pistols,
Reagan Youth,
Zero Boys,
Brick,
Joey Negro,
Shoche,
Yellowson,
Susan Cadogan,
Lindisfarne,
Joe Finger,
Faust,
Fela Kuti,
Subhumans,
The Sonics,
Don Cherry,
Tommy Roe,
Depeche Mode,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lucky Dragons,
Graham Central Station,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Skriet,
Rakim,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lee Hazlewood,
Maurizio,
The Fortunes,
Amazonics,
Niagra,
Eric Copeland,
China Crisis,
The Black Dice,
Dawn Penn,
The Slackers,
Todd Terry,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang of Four,
Crash Course in Science,
Khruangbin,
Tomorrow,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare,
cv313,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Albert Ayler,
Cecil Taylor,
B.T. Express,
Pole,
Bill Wells,
Jeff Mills,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.