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 Fiji and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
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 spring reverb 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 The Walker Brothers to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Neu!. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Crash Course in Science,
Junior Murvin,
Traffic Nightmare,
Piero Umiliani,
Robert Görl,
Lower 48,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dave Gahan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cal Tjader,
Fugazi,
Bill Wells,
Pere Ubu,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Deadbeat,
Icehouse,
Tommy Roe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Porter Ricks,
Cecil Taylor,
The Blackbyrds,
Index,
The Grass Roots,
H. Thieme,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nas,
the Swans,
the Bar-Kays,
David McCallum,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
One Last Wish,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Selecter,
Amon Düül II,
Half Japanese,
T. Rex,
Lungfish,
Yellowson,
Black Sheep,
The Golliwogs,
Nick Fraelich,
Soul Sonic Force,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fat Boys,
Sandy B,
Eric Copeland,
The Dead C,
The Saints,
John Cale,
Ten City,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minnie Riperton,
Rakim,
Scrapy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Connie Case,
Cymande,
Masters at Work,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.