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 Tajikistan and from Houston.
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 Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Ponytail to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Freddie Wadling,
Joy Division,
Pierre Henry,
Black Pus,
Chrome,
The Cure,
Joe Smooth,
Youth Brigade,
E-Dancer,
Oneida,
Delta 5,
Joyce Sims,
Gerry Rafferty,
Guru Guru,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jacques Brel,
Peter and Kerry,
John Lydon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Supertramp,
The Human League,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jeru the Damaja,
Parry Music,
Don Cherry,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Association,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dark Day,
KRS-One,
Jeff Lynne,
Outsiders,
Darondo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Siglo XX,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rakim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Fall,
The Martian,
Drive Like Jehu,
Vladislav Delay,
Man Eating Sloth,
Franke,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Dawn Penn,
Marvin Gaye,
Moebius,
Fela Kuti,
Crooked Eye,
Faust,
Los Fastidios,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jawbox,
DJ Style,
Al Stewart,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.