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 Ivory Coast and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet 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 Angry Samoans to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
The Moleskins,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Stiv Bators,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Negative Approach,
Mandrill,
Cameo,
Livin' Joy,
Moebius,
Drive Like Jehu,
Outsiders,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Sherman,
The Neon Judgement,
The American Breed,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Infiniti,
This Heat,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
KRS-One,
Main Source,
Tubeway Army,
Joe Smooth,
Underground Resistance,
The Velvet Underground,
The Residents,
Siglo XX,
The Music Machine,
Sugar Minott,
Chris Corsano,
Godley & Creme,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Smiths,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bush Tetras,
The Five Americans,
Deepchord,
Sällskapet,
Matthew Bourne,
The Remains,
The Techniques,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Beau Brummels,
Can,
Dennis Brown,
Fatback Band,
Arab on Radar,
Angry Samoans,
Radiohead,
Grey Daturas,
Laurel Aitken,
June of 44,
Eric Copeland,
Amazonics,
Funkadelic,
Magma,
the Human League,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.