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 Benin 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Smoke,
Johnny Osbourne,
Unwound,
Cal Tjader,
Juan Atkins,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Move,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Drexciya,
Moby Grape,
Flipper,
Sex Pistols,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Robert Görl,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rites of Spring,
Tres Demented,
Avey Tare,
48th St. Collective,
The Victims,
The Angels of Light,
Tommy Roe,
The Gories,
Brothers Johnson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wire,
Al Stewart,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Quando Quango,
Audionom,
Rufus Thomas,
The Wake,
Chris & Cosey,
Malaria!,
Ice-T,
Banda Bassotti,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fat Boys,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
X-101,
T.S.O.L.,
Saccharine Trust,
One Last Wish,
China Crisis,
Shuggie Otis,
The Zeros,
Angry Samoans,
The Saints,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soul Sonic Force,
Michelle Simonal,
Sonic Youth,
Bush Tetras,
The Motions,
Ten City,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
In Retrospect,
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.