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 Dominica and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 David Bowie 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 Black Moon to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
EPMD,
Qualms,
Bad Manners,
Technova,
Schoolly D,
Gang Gang Dance,
Aaron Thompson,
Marc Almond,
The Stooges,
The Slits,
The Monochrome Set,
Kaleidoscope,
Max Romeo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Barclay James Harvest,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Monks,
The Fortunes,
T.S.O.L.,
Scott Walker,
Groovy Waters,
Sex Pistols,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
ABC,
Saccharine Trust,
Big Daddy Kane,
Con Funk Shun,
Rotary Connection,
The Fire Engines,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jeff Mills,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Alton Ellis,
Black Flag,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lindisfarne,
Sound Behaviour,
CMW,
Grauzone,
David Bowie,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Roger Hodgson,
LL Cool J,
The Dave Clark Five,
Accadde A,
Make Up,
The Doors,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Smoke,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ponytail,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Susan Cadogan,
Kenny Larkin,
Circle Jerks,
the Sonics,
Aswad,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.