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 Morocco and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 DJ Sneak to the disco 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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 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 synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Black Moon,
CMW,
Eric B and Rakim,
Boogie Down Productions,
Delta 5,
Blossom Toes,
Cecil Taylor,
The American Breed,
Pole,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Leaves,
Circle Jerks,
Essential Logic,
Funky Four + One,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pussy Galore,
Bootsy Collins,
Minutemen,
Kas Product,
E-Dancer,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Grass Roots,
Unrelated Segments,
Icehouse,
Scan 7,
One Last Wish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fortunes,
The Move,
New Order,
Gabor Szabo,
ABC,
Fatback Band,
Spandau Ballet,
The Doobie Brothers,
John Holt,
Rod Modell,
Kaleidoscope,
Rotary Connection,
Barclay James Harvest,
Trumans Water,
Sixth Finger,
Rakim,
Grey Daturas,
Freddie Wadling,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Searchers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sun Ra,
The Five Americans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Last Poets,
Bush Tetras,
Alice Coltrane,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.