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 Argentina and from Lille.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 linndrum 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 Moby Grape to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Spandau Ballet,
Fat Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
Outsiders,
Blancmange,
Blossom Toes,
Morten Harket,
The Cramps,
Rakim,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Human League,
The Barracudas,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sonny Sharrock,
Symarip,
Lakeside,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scott Walker,
Average White Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Soul II Soul,
The Neon Judgement,
Yazoo,
FM Einheit,
Godley & Creme,
Los Fastidios,
Sight & Sound,
Lou Christie,
Radiohead,
June Days,
The Evens,
Cameo,
The Dead C,
Tim Buckley,
Barrington Levy,
Byron Stingily,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Agitation Free,
Carl Craig,
Camouflage,
The Selecter,
Drexciya,
The Residents,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crooked Eye,
Idris Muhammad,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jeff Mills,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Fortunes,
Loose Ends,
Sugar Minott,
Todd Rundgren,
The Pretty Things,
The Associates,
These Immortal Souls,
Minnie Riperton,
Surgeon,
Depeche Mode,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.