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 Lebanon 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Los Fastidios to the disco 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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nico,
Pantaleimon,
Blake Baxter,
Absolute Body Control,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Gun Club,
The Names,
Pierre Henry,
Unwound,
The Count Five,
Yaz,
The Flesh Eaters,
Archie Shepp,
48th St. Collective,
DJ Style,
The Last Poets,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ralphi Rosario,
Faust,
Aaron Thompson,
Lou Christie,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wire,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Piero Umiliani,
The Happenings,
Youth Brigade,
Radio Birdman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Colin Newman,
Organ,
Sixth Finger,
Circle Jerks,
Intrusion,
Dorothy Ashby,
Goldenarms,
The American Breed,
Gang Green,
Zero Boys,
The Gories,
Eve St. Jones,
Hot Snakes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marmalade,
Ronnie Foster,
Grauzone,
Scott Walker,
Basic Channel,
The Fortunes,
Lucky Dragons,
Barry Ungar,
OOIOO,
Gang Starr,
Albert Ayler,
UT,
John Cale,
Brand Nubian,
Fat Boys,
K-Klass,
Donny Hathaway,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.