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 Eritrea and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Hoover to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Frankie Knuckles,
Buzzcocks,
Moss Icon,
B.T. Express,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ludus,
Lightning Bolt,
Bang On A Can,
Scott Walker,
Suicide,
Grandmaster Flash,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Index,
Dennis Brown,
Man Eating Sloth,
F. McDonald,
Bill Wells,
Reagan Youth,
The Saints,
The Raincoats,
Panda Bear,
Fatback Band,
Khruangbin,
Wolf Eyes,
Scan 7,
KRS-One,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Deadbeat,
E-Dancer,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Silicon Teens,
a-ha,
Dorothy Ashby,
Anthony Braxton,
the Slits,
The Real Kids,
Morten Harket,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Remains,
Yaz,
Cameo,
Altered Images,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dark Day,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cymande,
Reuben Wilson,
Eric Dolphy,
The Human League,
Lalo Schifrin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marshall Jefferson,
UT,
Warsaw,
Joe Finger,
Alice Coltrane,
Rotary Connection,
Black Moon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Circle Jerks,
John Foxx,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.