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 Netherlands and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bremen.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Ossler to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Bobby Sherman,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Chris & Cosey,
Massinfluence,
Gil Scott Heron,
R.M.O.,
U.S. Maple,
The Remains,
Tropical Tobacco,
Amazonics,
Mandrill,
Stockholm Monsters,
Whodini,
Marine Girls,
Trumans Water,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Index,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Funky Four + One,
The Leaves,
Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
New Age Steppers,
Panda Bear,
The Golliwogs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bad Manners,
The Neon Judgement,
Ultimate Spinach,
Anakelly,
Harry Pussy,
Black Flag,
Theoretical Girls,
Graham Central Station,
PIL,
Outsiders,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Yaz,
Gang of Four,
Fad Gadget,
The Searchers,
Alton Ellis,
Drexciya,
Lower 48,
Q65,
Ituana,
David Axelrod,
Todd Terry,
Barry Ungar,
Adolescents,
Bluetip,
Don Cherry,
Stereo Dub,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fall,
Can,
EPMD,
Bobby Womack,
Ornette Coleman,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.