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 Brazil and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro 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 the Fania All-Stars to the grunge 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lungfish,
Man Parrish,
Jeff Mills,
Tomorrow,
Zero Boys,
Minnie Riperton,
Rekid,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dead Boys,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scion,
Pere Ubu,
the Association,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Country Teasers,
Suburban Knight,
Boogie Down Productions,
MDC,
Surgeon,
The Busters,
Index,
Hardrive,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Freddie Wadling,
8 Eyed Spy,
Donny Hathaway,
Robert Görl,
Althea and Donna,
Flash Fearless,
The Grass Roots,
Amazonics,
The Fuzztones,
Pantytec,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Radio Birdman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sex Pistols,
Tres Demented,
Sun Ra,
Sixth Finger,
Quantec,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Thee Headcoats,
The Invisible,
Accadde A,
Erykah Badu,
Bob Dylan,
Reuben Wilson,
The Wake,
Negative Approach,
Lou Reed,
The Pop Group,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gichy Dan,
OOIOO,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Flesh Eaters,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.