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 Guyana and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Harmonia,
Malaria!,
The Remains,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bootsy Collins,
Chris & Cosey,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Derrick Morgan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bobby Byrd,
Whodini,
Deepchord,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wally Richardson,
Visage,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Pretty Things,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Skaos,
Cecil Taylor,
Graham Central Station,
Peter and Kerry,
The Music Machine,
Don Cherry,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lou Christie,
Black Bananas,
Kaleidoscope,
Camberwell Now,
Mr. Review,
New Order,
Nation of Ulysses,
Amon Düül II,
The Residents,
The Techniques,
Jawbox,
the Normal,
Magma,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Busters,
The Divine Comedy,
Rotary Connection,
Minny Pops,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Q65,
Junior Murvin,
Yazoo,
Slick Rick,
The Flesh Eaters,
Laurel Aitken,
Deadbeat,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.