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 Benin and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the funk 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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Liliput,
The Monochrome Set,
The Durutti Column,
Flipper,
Easy Going,
The Index,
U.S. Maple,
The Misunderstood,
Jacques Brel,
Cymande,
The Moody Blues,
Jimmy McGriff,
Quantec,
Bluetip,
Archie Shepp,
Popol Vuh,
Jawbox,
Steve Hackett,
Livin' Joy,
FM Einheit,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Reagan Youth,
Wolf Eyes,
Susan Cadogan,
Magazine,
Mission of Burma,
Joe Smooth,
Audionom,
Jeff Mills,
Janne Schatter,
Brass Construction,
Ludus,
Sandy B,
Davy DMX,
Duran Duran,
Deepchord,
Dead Boys,
Grandmaster Flash,
Danielle Patucci,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sound,
Lou Reed,
Yusef Lateef,
David Axelrod,
Blossom Toes,
Albert Ayler,
Pantaleimon,
Unrelated Segments,
Stereo Dub,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Count Five,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
New Age Steppers,
Bronski Beat,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Clear Light,
Byron Stingily,
The Human League,
Nas,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.