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 Solomon Islands and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Cymande to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
X-Ray Spex,
New Age Steppers,
Sällskapet,
Flash Fearless,
Sam Rivers,
The Smiths,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Selecter,
Bang On A Can,
Sugar Minott,
The Fire Engines,
Rapeman,
Ultra Naté,
Rakim,
Lightning Bolt,
Pantaleimon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Infiniti,
The Dave Clark Five,
Donald Byrd,
Tom Boy,
Suburban Knight,
UT,
The J.B.'s,
Subhumans,
Junior Murvin,
Khruangbin,
Ossler,
Trumans Water,
Simply Red,
Letta Mbulu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Organ,
Sarah Menescal,
Mandrill,
L. Decosne,
Lungfish,
Heaven 17,
Man Eating Sloth,
June Days,
Model 500,
In Retrospect,
Eric Copeland,
Franke,
The Vogues,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tubeway Army,
Lalann,
Gabor Szabo,
Bush Tetras,
The Cure,
The Skatalites,
cv313,
Pierre Henry,
Lindisfarne,
Peter and Kerry,
Cecil Taylor,
Babytalk,
Grey Daturas,
Cal Tjader,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.