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 Uzbekistan and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 London Community Gospel Choir to the grime 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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Y Pants,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lower 48,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Carl Craig,
Gang Starr,
Visage,
10cc,
Alton Ellis,
Soft Cell,
Grandmaster Flash,
Zapp,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Bar-Kays,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Delon & Dalcan,
Byron Stingily,
Smog,
UT,
Barbara Tucker,
The Electric Prunes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pantytec,
Sugar Minott,
Don Cherry,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Loose Ends,
Tom Boy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David McCallum,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Golliwogs,
Kenny Larkin,
The Doors,
Scientists,
Patti Smith,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Drexciya,
Piero Umiliani,
Soul II Soul,
Aaron Thompson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Silicon Teens,
Charles Mingus,
Brand Nubian,
Gang Green,
Anthony Braxton,
The Vogues,
The Blues Magoos,
Shoche,
H. Thieme,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fall,
Gang Gang Dance,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.