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 Azerbaijan and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Jeru the Damaja to the crunk 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Piero Umiliani,
Crispy Ambulance,
Grauzone,
Alphaville,
Sällskapet,
Man Eating Sloth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Victims,
Moby Grape,
John Lydon,
Whodini,
Hasil Adkins,
Anakelly,
Idris Muhammad,
Von Mondo,
Outsiders,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Amazonics,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Slits,
The Litter,
June of 44,
John Holt,
Andrew Hill,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Moleskins,
The Modern Lovers,
Theoretical Girls,
Marine Girls,
Masters at Work,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ice-T,
Cymande,
Peter & Gordon,
Saccharine Trust,
Loose Ends,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Pretty Things,
The Dead C,
Black Pus,
The Busters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Star Department,
Echospace,
Arcadia,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Maurizio,
Model 500,
Spandau Ballet,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eric B and Rakim,
Flipper,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Babytalk,
Tommy Roe,
The Saints,
Peter and Kerry,
Cluster,
Angry Samoans,
LL Cool J,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.