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 Burkina and from New York.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Clear Light to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
MDC,
Malaria!,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Busters,
John Coltrane,
Wolf Eyes,
Procol Harum,
Liliput,
Sex Pistols,
The Monochrome Set,
Marvin Gaye,
Aswad,
Mars,
The Invisible,
Lebanon Hanover,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lou Christie,
Make Up,
Minnie Riperton,
Interpol,
Smog,
JFA,
The Dead C,
Jeff Mills,
The Raincoats,
Arab on Radar,
Flipper,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ituana,
Neu!,
Section 25,
Alice Coltrane,
In Retrospect,
Loose Ends,
The Sound,
Howard Jones,
David Axelrod,
Organ,
Sight & Sound,
Angry Samoans,
Young Marble Giants,
Wasted Youth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Standells,
Stockholm Monsters,
Qualms,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The J.B.'s,
UT,
Terry Callier,
Monolake,
Black Bananas,
Joe Finger,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Inner City,
Drexciya,
Eddi Front,
Easy Going,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.