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 Sierra Leone and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Tears for Fears to the grime 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
The J.B.'s,
Eric Copeland,
Graham Central Station,
Matthew Bourne,
The Trojans,
Deepchord,
The Moleskins,
Gong,
Gichy Dan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Darondo,
B.T. Express,
Smog,
Anthony Braxton,
Jandek,
Wally Richardson,
Swans,
The Standells,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Yellowson,
David Axelrod,
Amon Düül II,
Khruangbin,
Nick Fraelich,
Roger Hodgson,
David McCallum,
Bootsy Collins,
Quando Quango,
Alison Limerick,
Shuggie Otis,
Excepter,
Ice-T,
Panda Bear,
Royal Trux,
Glenn Branca,
Sexual Harrassment,
Motorama,
Hoover,
Bush Tetras,
The Pop Group,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Bar-Kays,
T.S.O.L.,
The Evens,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gang Gang Dance,
Reuben Wilson,
The New Christs,
The Dirtbombs,
Idris Muhammad,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Scott Walker,
Pharoah Sanders,
Easy Going,
Fad Gadget,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.