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 Rwanda and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Skatalites to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
The Monks,
The Angels of Light,
The Selecter,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Quantec,
Symarip,
The Count Five,
Supertramp,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Juan Atkins,
Boz Scaggs,
Can,
Donald Byrd,
MDC,
Darondo,
Al Stewart,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sex Pistols,
Byron Stingily,
The Fall,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Masters at Work,
Essential Logic,
Terry Callier,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Harmonia,
Erasure,
Arcadia,
Bill Wells,
Wolf Eyes,
Susan Cadogan,
Rotary Connection,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Slackers,
Excepter,
The Birthday Party,
The Divine Comedy,
AZ,
Magma,
Freddie Wadling,
Monks,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Flag,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
La Düsseldorf,
Prince Buster,
Yaz,
Quadrant,
Oneida,
Roxette,
Joyce Sims,
Skaos,
Isaac Hayes,
Flipper,
Kenny Larkin,
The Mojo Men,
Slave,
Soulsonic Force,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.