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 Israel and from Paris.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Peter and Kerry to the funk 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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kas Product,
Chrome,
Eric B and Rakim,
Connie Case,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Terry Callier,
The Victims,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Flash Fearless,
Girls At Our Best!,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Human League,
The Doors,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Mojo Men,
Donald Byrd,
EPMD,
Susan Cadogan,
New Age Steppers,
Eve St. Jones,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
L. Decosne,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Residents,
Pierre Henry,
The Leaves,
Patti Smith,
Kayak,
Porter Ricks,
Reuben Wilson,
Procol Harum,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Barry Ungar,
Crime,
John Holt,
Gil Scott Heron,
Banda Bassotti,
Ronnie Foster,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Franke,
Eric Copeland,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Bar-Kays,
Roxy Music,
Fear,
The Litter,
ABC,
The Monks,
The Buckinghams,
Robert Hood,
Groovy Waters,
Slave,
The Detroit Cobras,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Golliwogs,
The Zeros,
Faraquet,
The Fortunes,
Hardrive,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.