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 Gabon and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
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 marimba 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the grime 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Aural Exciters,
the Bar-Kays,
Michelle Simonal,
Roxy Music,
Gang of Four,
Agitation Free,
Traffic Nightmare,
Byron Stingily,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Flipper,
Monks,
Archie Shepp,
Model 500,
Public Image Ltd.,
Robert Hood,
Babytalk,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Inner City,
Ultravox,
Thee Headcoats,
Sarah Menescal,
Depeche Mode,
Josef K,
Flash Fearless,
The United States of America,
The Litter,
Stereo Dub,
Motorama,
T.S.O.L.,
the Germs,
Intrusion,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mission of Burma,
Sugar Minott,
Toni Rubio,
Alton Ellis,
Electric Prunes,
Peter and Kerry,
Slave,
Letta Mbulu,
Interpol,
8 Eyed Spy,
Khruangbin,
Average White Band,
Al Stewart,
Gang Starr,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mr. Review,
Masters at Work,
Skarface,
UT,
Iggy Pop,
Alphaville,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Technova,
Sällskapet,
Los Fastidios,
The Flesh Eaters,
Reagan Youth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Harry Pussy,
Graham Central Station,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.