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 Barbados and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 June Days to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Fuzztones,
CMW,
Reuben Wilson,
Cymande,
Anthony Braxton,
Eve St. Jones,
Godley & Creme,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kool Moe Dee,
Malaria!,
Brothers Johnson,
The Modern Lovers,
Alice Coltrane,
The Neon Judgement,
Banda Bassotti,
Nico,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gun Club,
Marc Almond,
Soul Sonic Force,
Reagan Youth,
The Fortunes,
Deadbeat,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Au Pairs,
The Barracudas,
Grandmaster Flash,
Soulsonic Force,
F. McDonald,
Outsiders,
Gichy Dan,
Angry Samoans,
Camouflage,
Gang of Four,
Aaron Thompson,
Toni Rubio,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Alphaville,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Thee Headcoats,
Man Parrish,
Hasil Adkins,
Cheater Slicks,
Fluxion,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Flamin' Groovies,
X-102,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Mummies,
Adolescents,
Altered Images,
Bootsy Collins,
Con Funk Shun,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Heaven 17,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gong,
Dark Day,
Wire,
London Community Gospel Choir,
John Foxx,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.