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 Gambia and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Accadde A to the crunk 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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Bluetip,
Warsaw,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Terry Callier,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Prince Buster,
48th St. Collective,
Arab on Radar,
JFA,
Magma,
Cluster,
Marshall Jefferson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mary Jane Girls,
Archie Shepp,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Animal Collective,
Rosa Yemen,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nik Kershaw,
Royal Trux,
Scion,
X-101,
Lalo Schifrin,
Quando Quango,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Icehouse,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Alison Limerick,
Henry Cow,
Leonard Cohen,
Janne Schatter,
Barbara Tucker,
Charles Mingus,
The Fortunes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Aswad,
Jerry's Kids,
Nils Olav,
Radio Birdman,
Fluxion,
The Flesh Eaters,
Alice Coltrane,
Duran Duran,
Young Marble Giants,
Swans,
World's Most,
Banda Bassotti,
Dennis Brown,
F. McDonald,
Matthew Halsall,
A Certain Ratio,
Ultravox,
Public Enemy,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Selecter,
MC5,
Dual Sessions,
Youth Brigade,
Lindisfarne,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.