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 Macedonia and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manchester.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Michelle Simonal to the rap 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
MDC,
Schoolly D,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Royal Trux,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rites of Spring,
Yusef Lateef,
Trumans Water,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Joe Finger,
Iggy Pop,
Suburban Knight,
Nico,
Visage,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mad Mike,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fat Boys,
John Cale,
John Foxx,
The Smoke,
The Buckinghams,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Sonics,
Carl Craig,
In Retrospect,
Sixth Finger,
Soft Cell,
Radio Birdman,
Groovy Waters,
Sam Rivers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
LL Cool J,
Funkadelic,
DJ Style,
Marmalade,
Hoover,
Skriet,
Panda Bear,
Urselle,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marvin Gaye,
Judy Mowatt,
Nas,
The Blackbyrds,
Eve St. Jones,
The Toasters,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Raincoats,
Soul Sonic Force,
Chris Corsano,
The Durutti Column,
China Crisis,
Los Fastidios,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Minny Pops,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Real Kids,
Shuggie Otis,
Johnny Clarke,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.