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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bremen.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lower 48 to the funk 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Piero Umiliani,
Brand Nubian,
David Bowie,
Television Personalities,
Moby Grape,
Babytalk,
Glambeats Corp.,
Shuggie Otis,
Bootsy Collins,
Faust,
Pere Ubu,
Sound Behaviour,
Banda Bassotti,
Moss Icon,
Lindisfarne,
Pulsallama,
Joe Finger,
The Last Poets,
Reagan Youth,
The Gun Club,
Marcia Griffiths,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The American Breed,
E-Dancer,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Sound,
Marine Girls,
Soulsonic Force,
Darondo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pharoah Sanders,
Man Parrish,
David Axelrod,
Nico,
The Raincoats,
Mantronix,
Brass Construction,
Robert Görl,
Khruangbin,
Morten Harket,
Gang Starr,
Ice-T,
Subhumans,
Scott Walker,
Funkadelic,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cal Tjader,
Gregory Isaacs,
Duran Duran,
Essential Logic,
Roy Ayers,
Interpol,
Boredoms,
John Lydon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
U.S. Maple,
Sixth Finger,
Jeff Lynne,
Eddi Front,
Soul Sonic Force,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.