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 Laos and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pierre Henry to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
UT,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lyres,
Funky Four + One,
The Leaves,
Faust,
Erykah Badu,
James White and The Blacks,
Cluster,
Quadrant,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Delta 5,
Amazonics,
Peter & Gordon,
Dave Gahan,
Roy Ayers,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Martian,
Gang of Four,
Duran Duran,
Colin Newman,
New Order,
Tim Buckley,
Terry Callier,
The Cure,
Dead Boys,
Rosa Yemen,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Cowsills,
Boz Scaggs,
Wasted Youth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Young Marble Giants,
The J.B.'s,
Pierre Henry,
R.M.O.,
Audionom,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ludus,
The Dirtbombs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Donny Hathaway,
Bush Tetras,
Traffic Nightmare,
Anthony Braxton,
Lindisfarne,
Essential Logic,
Mandrill,
The American Breed,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Erasure,
Eddi Front,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nas,
Robert Hood,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
LL Cool J,
John Cale,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.