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 Cameroon and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Brand Nubian to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
K-Klass,
Cybotron,
The Fugs,
Sun City Girls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hardrive,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Walker Brothers,
Oblivians,
Matthew Halsall,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Monochrome Set,
The Tremeloes,
Scratch Acid,
Lindisfarne,
Tropical Tobacco,
Blossom Toes,
Lungfish,
Man Parrish,
Joey Negro,
Morten Harket,
Jawbox,
Motorama,
EPMD,
Gang Green,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Anthony Braxton,
Sam Rivers,
Spoonie Gee,
Wings,
Piero Umiliani,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Los Fastidios,
Eddi Front,
Clear Light,
The Index,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Gun Club,
Todd Rundgren,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
MDC,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Procol Harum,
Grandmaster Flash,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Sonics,
Lou Christie,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ludus,
Angry Samoans,
Kayak,
Godley & Creme,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Fire Engines,
Crooked Eye,
Pussy Galore,
Peter and Kerry,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.