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 Macedonia and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare 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 cv313 to the disco 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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Aloha Tigers,
Tomorrow,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Silicon Teens,
James White and The Blacks,
Cymande,
Loose Ends,
Al Stewart,
Ten City,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ossler,
Dead Boys,
Rotary Connection,
Barclay James Harvest,
Circle Jerks,
cv313,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Yellowson,
Radio Birdman,
The Mummies,
These Immortal Souls,
The Skatalites,
Simply Red,
Wings,
Fela Kuti,
Nils Olav,
Heaven 17,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Cale,
The Blues Magoos,
H. Thieme,
Technova,
The Monks,
The Fuzztones,
EPMD,
Carl Craig,
Quadrant,
Sister Nancy,
AZ,
Blossom Toes,
Royal Trux,
Ice-T,
Malaria!,
Agent Orange,
Fear,
Quantec,
Letta Mbulu,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Country Teasers,
Lou Christie,
Fat Boys,
the Sonics,
Moebius,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ornette Coleman,
Vainqueur,
Monks,
Faust,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Guru Guru,
Morten Harket,
Wally Richardson,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.