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 Ghana and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Selecter to the punk 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
T. Rex,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Residents,
The Victims,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Davy DMX,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Morten Harket,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wally Richardson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The American Breed,
Soulsonic Force,
Shoche,
Mandrill,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Qualms,
Ronan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Reagan Youth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The United States of America,
the Germs,
Bush Tetras,
Marmalade,
Vainqueur,
The Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare,
Rites of Spring,
Bad Manners,
Maleditus Sound,
The Martian,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Radio Birdman,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Thompson Twins,
Joy Division,
Slick Rick,
Alison Limerick,
Stereo Dub,
Sex Pistols,
LL Cool J,
MDC,
Con Funk Shun,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Standells,
Bill Near,
Lungfish,
Eric Dolphy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
F. McDonald,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Moebius,
Scrapy,
Erykah Badu,
Neu!,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.