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 Dominica and from Madrid.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Howard Jones to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Sarah Menescal,
Nik Kershaw,
The Doors,
the Swans,
The Monks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tres Demented,
Nils Olav,
The Names,
KRS-One,
The Mighty Diamonds,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Motorama,
Arcadia,
The Neon Judgement,
Heaven 17,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Terry Callier,
Kurtis Blow,
the Fania All-Stars,
Popol Vuh,
The Detroit Cobras,
Morten Harket,
Mission of Burma,
Sandy B,
Bauhaus,
MDC,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Walker Brothers,
Ponytail,
Darondo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Soft Cell,
Barclay James Harvest,
Barrington Levy,
Juan Atkins,
Bush Tetras,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Toasters,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Simply Red,
Chris & Cosey,
Scott Walker,
The Fire Engines,
Peter & Gordon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Josef K,
Godley & Creme,
Average White Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Tom Boy,
Avey Tare,
Groovy Waters,
New Order,
Soul II Soul,
Pylon,
Visage,
Monks,
Spandau Ballet,
B.T. Express,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.