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 Jamaica and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Dennis Brown,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Popol Vuh,
The Walker Brothers,
Mr. Review,
Aaron Thompson,
Bill Near,
Andrew Hill,
Sonic Youth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Don Cherry,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Accadde A,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Electric Prunes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sister Nancy,
Terry Callier,
Wings,
Little Man,
Siglo XX,
Sight & Sound,
Idris Muhammad,
The Human League,
Newcleus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Junior Murvin,
Inner City,
Chris & Cosey,
World's Most,
Marmalade,
The Moleskins,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Parry Music,
Avey Tare,
Sarah Menescal,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Suburban Knight,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tom Boy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Second Layer,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Human League,
The Monks,
The Angels of Light,
The Stooges,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Los Fastidios,
Oneida,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Swell Maps,
Susan Cadogan,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Al Stewart,
The Tremeloes,
Negative Approach,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.