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 Marshall Islands and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Arab on Radar to the jazz 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Alice Coltrane,
Fad Gadget,
Dead Boys,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scrapy,
Andrew Hill,
Mary Jane Girls,
Whodini,
Suicide,
Joe Smooth,
Gichy Dan,
The Invisible,
the Association,
Easy Going,
The Zeros,
Peter and Kerry,
Trumans Water,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rhythm & Sound,
Derrick May,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
D'Angelo,
The Cure,
Pantytec,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Todd Terry,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kenny Larkin,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kurtis Blow,
Vainqueur,
Dave Gahan,
The Neon Judgement,
Mantronix,
Tears for Fears,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Byron Stingily,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jeff Mills,
Drive Like Jehu,
Wire,
Joy Division,
MC5,
Patti Smith,
Mandrill,
Brass Construction,
Bizarre Inc.,
Yazoo,
Robert Hood,
Marmalade,
Schoolly D,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Public Enemy,
Don Cherry,
Qualms,
Lightning Bolt,
Faust,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.