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 Tanzania and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
The Blues Magoos,
The Mummies,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Radio Birdman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kerri Chandler,
Flipper,
Bobby Sherman,
Vainqueur,
Donald Byrd,
Bill Near,
EPMD,
The Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Arab on Radar,
The Angels of Light,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Supertramp,
Magazine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roy Ayers,
Chrome,
The Victims,
K-Klass,
Dorothy Ashby,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Aswad,
Lightning Bolt,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Hardrive,
The Slackers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Camberwell Now,
Youth Brigade,
Angry Samoans,
Barbara Tucker,
The Modern Lovers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Index,
Unwound,
Flash Fearless,
Q and Not U,
Second Layer,
Scientists,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Anthony Braxton,
Hot Snakes,
Todd Terry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sällskapet,
Lower 48,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sugar Minott,
Reuben Wilson,
Spoonie Gee,
Andrew Hill,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Hood,
Oblivians,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.