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 Bulgaria and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Yellowson to the grime 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim 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?
Matthew Bourne,
The Last Poets,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Supertramp,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Busters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Swans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Al Stewart,
the Association,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kaleidoscope,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
T.S.O.L.,
OOIOO,
Stereo Dub,
Peter and Kerry,
Buzzcocks,
AZ,
The Dirtbombs,
Amazonics,
The Names,
Half Japanese,
Soul II Soul,
Royal Trux,
The Birthday Party,
Wings,
The Moleskins,
Blossom Toes,
FM Einheit,
Duran Duran,
Japan,
Ronan,
the Human League,
Minny Pops,
Aloha Tigers,
Monks,
Agent Orange,
Nick Fraelich,
Maurizio,
Main Source,
Jeru the Damaja,
Loose Ends,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
U.S. Maple,
Brass Construction,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Doobie Brothers,
Youth Brigade,
Ultra Naté,
The Cowsills,
Sex Pistols,
Donald Byrd,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Move,
Excepter,
Blancmange,
Mission of Burma,
Sight & Sound,
Intrusion,
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.