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 Serbia and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Bang On A Can to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wire,
Todd Terry,
The Dirtbombs,
The Saints,
Henry Cow,
The Smoke,
Roger Hodgson,
Josef K,
Hardrive,
Piero Umiliani,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tim Buckley,
Masters at Work,
Severed Heads,
Camberwell Now,
Flash Fearless,
Scrapy,
New Order,
The Moleskins,
Little Man,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lalann,
Faraquet,
Kayak,
The Monks,
Mark Hollis,
Wally Richardson,
Simply Red,
Stiv Bators,
CMW,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gang Starr,
Grauzone,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Average White Band,
Echospace,
Lungfish,
Wolf Eyes,
Man Parrish,
Spoonie Gee,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Basic Channel,
Derrick May,
Youth Brigade,
Funkadelic,
Moebius,
Maleditus Sound,
Moss Icon,
Judy Mowatt,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boz Scaggs,
Zero Boys,
Jeru the Damaja,
Roxy Music,
Quadrant,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.