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 Benin and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Soft Machine to the jazz 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Maleditus Sound,
The Grass Roots,
Skarface,
John Foxx,
Gabor Szabo,
Rapeman,
Harry Pussy,
Barry Ungar,
R.M.O.,
Rhythm & Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Sheep,
Zapp,
The Skatalites,
Country Teasers,
Magazine,
Lower 48,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Johnny Clarke,
Reagan Youth,
Bluetip,
Harmonia,
Scratch Acid,
Todd Terry,
X-Ray Spex,
Joey Negro,
The Move,
Intrusion,
Crime,
Theoretical Girls,
The Raincoats,
Rufus Thomas,
The Star Department,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bronski Beat,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cal Tjader,
Technova,
Gang Gang Dance,
Scrapy,
Moby Grape,
U.S. Maple,
Steve Hackett,
The Dave Clark Five,
Thompson Twins,
Essential Logic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Patti Smith,
The Black Dice,
Banda Bassotti,
Soul II Soul,
Slave,
The Saints,
The Seeds,
Bobby Sherman,
Fugazi,
Pierre Henry,
Robert Wyatt,
Dennis Brown,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.