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 Suriname and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Gang Starr to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Rod Modell,
Nico,
Mantronix,
Minnie Riperton,
Scratch Acid,
June of 44,
The Victims,
Dead Boys,
Donny Hathaway,
The Mummies,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Duran Duran,
Wally Richardson,
T. Rex,
T.S.O.L.,
The Walker Brothers,
Robert Görl,
Desert Stars,
The Invisible,
Alison Limerick,
Drive Like Jehu,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Doobie Brothers,
Patti Smith,
Neil Young,
The Durutti Column,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Knickerbockers,
Bluetip,
Metal Thangz,
Das Ding,
Marcia Griffiths,
Harry Pussy,
Kerri Chandler,
X-102,
Leonard Cohen,
The Martian,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aaron Thompson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Flipper,
D'Angelo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aswad,
Smog,
Gang of Four,
Section 25,
The Saints,
Albert Ayler,
the Association,
The Kinks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Warren Ellis,
U.S. Maple,
Bobby Byrd,
the Soft Cell,
Freddie Wadling,
The Stooges,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Blake Baxter,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.