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 Jamaica and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Stetsasonic to the electroclash 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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Angels of Light,
Q65,
Arcadia,
Sällskapet,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marvin Gaye,
Minny Pops,
Mantronix,
Lou Christie,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jacques Brel,
Cecil Taylor,
The Searchers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pantaleimon,
Ossler,
Mission of Burma,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Niagra,
Au Pairs,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barry Ungar,
Masters at Work,
The Music Machine,
June of 44,
Black Moon,
The Trojans,
The Smoke,
Angry Samoans,
Tomorrow,
AZ,
Lower 48,
Essential Logic,
Massinfluence,
Susan Cadogan,
Sarah Menescal,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Birthday Party,
The Motions,
Buzzcocks,
Ken Boothe,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joy Division,
The Moleskins,
Cheater Slicks,
CMW,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mr. Review,
The Saints,
Joey Negro,
K-Klass,
Chrome,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Easy Going,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.