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 United States and from London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the snare 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 Reuben Wilson to the disco 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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Monochrome Set,
Eden Ahbez,
Don Cherry,
Traffic Nightmare,
Skaos,
Cal Tjader,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Golliwogs,
Camouflage,
The Leaves,
Theoretical Girls,
Mantronix,
Easy Going,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tomorrow,
Lower 48,
Livin' Joy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Maurizio,
In Retrospect,
Monolake,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Visage,
Silicon Teens,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Smoke,
Byron Stingily,
The Fortunes,
Banda Bassotti,
Pierre Henry,
Dennis Brown,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Germs,
Groovy Waters,
Idris Muhammad,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cameo,
The Residents,
Johnny Osbourne,
Talk Talk,
Rufus Thomas,
Eric Copeland,
Pharoah Sanders,
Brick,
Pantaleimon,
Crime,
These Immortal Souls,
Alice Coltrane,
Blake Baxter,
Bang On A Can,
Au Pairs,
Fugazi,
Moss Icon,
Gang Starr,
The Sonics,
Skarface,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Connie Case,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.