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 Vanuatu and from Johannesburg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Johnny Clarke to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
The Offenders,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Dirtbombs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nils Olav,
Shuggie Otis,
The Fuzztones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Fortunes,
Altered Images,
Y Pants,
Duran Duran,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Walker Brothers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Flamin' Groovies,
Metal Thangz,
Donny Hathaway,
X-101,
David Axelrod,
L. Decosne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Count Five,
Bronski Beat,
The Litter,
Cameo,
Funkadelic,
The Gap Band,
cv313,
Desert Stars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Colin Newman,
Man Parrish,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joe Smooth,
New Age Steppers,
Popol Vuh,
the Fania All-Stars,
Glenn Branca,
Joyce Sims,
The Young Rascals,
These Immortal Souls,
Half Japanese,
Pantaleimon,
Josef K,
Minny Pops,
Electric Prunes,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fall,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Grass Roots,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bill Near,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Cowsills,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.