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 Albania and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Yusef Lateef to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
PIL,
Swell Maps,
Faraquet,
Gichy Dan,
The Doors,
Mandrill,
Bobby Womack,
Sandy B,
Mission of Burma,
Mary Jane Girls,
Scrapy,
Jimmy McGriff,
London Community Gospel Choir,
48th St. Collective,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Negative Approach,
Tres Demented,
Black Flag,
Rod Modell,
Warren Ellis,
Iggy Pop,
The Real Kids,
Sight & Sound,
Cluster,
Colin Newman,
John Cale,
The Black Dice,
Alton Ellis,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eve St. Jones,
Boogie Down Productions,
The United States of America,
Smog,
Barbara Tucker,
D'Angelo,
Technova,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rufus Thomas,
Average White Band,
Tears for Fears,
Pierre Henry,
Niagra,
Stiv Bators,
Agent Orange,
Television,
Wally Richardson,
Kurtis Blow,
Livin' Joy,
Minnie Riperton,
Don Cherry,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fad Gadget,
Spoonie Gee,
Public Enemy,
Joyce Sims,
Davy DMX,
Cheater Slicks,
Pylon,
Joey Negro,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.