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 Andorra and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba 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 Cymande to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
D'Angelo,
Magma,
Spandau Ballet,
Wire,
the Bar-Kays,
Maurizio,
Tommy Roe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Talk Talk,
Joey Negro,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mission of Burma,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Minutemen,
Chris & Cosey,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gabor Szabo,
Severed Heads,
David Bowie,
Echospace,
Mandrill,
Marmalade,
Pulsallama,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Raincoats,
Parry Music,
Smog,
Lucky Dragons,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
New Age Steppers,
Franke,
Janne Schatter,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lou Reed,
the Slits,
Popol Vuh,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Scan 7,
Dennis Brown,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sugar Minott,
Sight & Sound,
Ken Boothe,
FM Einheit,
Von Mondo,
Y Pants,
Thee Headcoats,
Ornette Coleman,
Silicon Teens,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Swans,
Moebius,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Roxette,
Boogie Down Productions,
Main Source,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Techniques,
John Lydon,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.