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 United Kingdom and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mary Jane Girls to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
LL Cool J,
Faust,
The Dave Clark Five,
Wings,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Funky Four + One,
Lalann,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cure,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wolf Eyes,
Johnny Osbourne,
UT,
Depeche Mode,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Sonics,
Cal Tjader,
The Motions,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sister Nancy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
DNA,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mr. Review,
Max Romeo,
In Retrospect,
Marine Girls,
Cecil Taylor,
Albert Ayler,
Monolake,
Rekid,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Byrd,
Theoretical Girls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Swell Maps,
Schoolly D,
Rites of Spring,
Fad Gadget,
Animal Collective,
Rosa Yemen,
Sonny Sharrock,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Hardrive,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Warren Ellis,
Neil Young,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joe Finger,
Sugar Minott,
Lakeside,
Glambeats Corp.,
D'Angelo,
Pole,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Reed,
Public Enemy,
Swans,
Eve St. Jones,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Supertramp,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.