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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Brothers Johnson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Bobby Hutcherson,
June of 44,
Eddi Front,
Reuben Wilson,
Circle Jerks,
Kool Moe Dee,
David Bowie,
Eden Ahbez,
Johnny Clarke,
Basic Channel,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eurythmics,
The Raincoats,
Sonic Youth,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Newcleus,
Barbara Tucker,
Amon Düül II,
Brothers Johnson,
Whodini,
Thompson Twins,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Stiv Bators,
Section 25,
The Slackers,
Rosa Yemen,
Zapp,
The Stooges,
Y Pants,
Yusef Lateef,
Underground Resistance,
Skriet,
Toni Rubio,
Bronski Beat,
a-ha,
Jeru the Damaja,
Minnie Riperton,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wally Richardson,
Saccharine Trust,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Quadrant,
Blossom Toes,
T. Rex,
The Happenings,
Cybotron,
Little Man,
Bang On A Can,
Mo-Dettes,
Barrington Levy,
The Smoke,
DJ Sneak,
Isaac Hayes,
Andrew Hill,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
PIL,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Harry Pussy,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.