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 Cape Verde and from Manchester.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Columbus.
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 808 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 Moby Grape to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Fortunes,
The Invisible,
Jimmy McGriff,
K-Klass,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Interpol,
Judy Mowatt,
Slave,
Gong,
Siglo XX,
Ludus,
Eddi Front,
Mission of Burma,
Donny Hathaway,
The Mojo Men,
The Move,
The Golliwogs,
Hashim,
Schoolly D,
Sam Rivers,
Lightning Bolt,
Urselle,
Sun Ra,
The Busters,
Index,
The Divine Comedy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Das Ding,
Suburban Knight,
ABBA,
The Slackers,
ABC,
Henry Cow,
Soft Machine,
Kenny Larkin,
The Standells,
L. Decosne,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Easy Going,
Piero Umiliani,
the Fania All-Stars,
Duran Duran,
Black Sheep,
Funkadelic,
Bad Manners,
Livin' Joy,
Josef K,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Motions,
Bob Dylan,
Pole,
Au Pairs,
The Gories,
The Evens,
Jesper Dahlback,
Iggy Pop,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.