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 Guinea and from New York.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlback,
The Electric Prunes,
R.M.O.,
The Gun Club,
Robert Hood,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Alphaville,
Q and Not U,
Angry Samoans,
Desert Stars,
the Sonics,
F. McDonald,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Beau Brummels,
Sight & Sound,
Judy Mowatt,
Bob Dylan,
The Detroit Cobras,
Althea and Donna,
Donald Byrd,
Harpers Bizarre,
Absolute Body Control,
Crash Course in Science,
The Knickerbockers,
La Düsseldorf,
Neu!,
Max Romeo,
Freddie Wadling,
Prince Buster,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Evens,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ultra Naté,
Boz Scaggs,
Half Japanese,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Moleskins,
Q65,
New Age Steppers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Stereo Dub,
Clear Light,
Ronan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Duran Duran,
Roxy Music,
Reagan Youth,
Hot Snakes,
The Associates,
Nas,
Johnny Clarke,
Joe Finger,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Victims,
Magma,
Black Flag,
Hardrive,
Organ,
Lindisfarne,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.