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 Guinea-Bissau and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 oboe 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 Fluxion to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delon & Dalcan,
Joe Finger,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kenny Larkin,
Tres Demented,
The Divine Comedy,
The J.B.'s,
Black Bananas,
Black Sheep,
Mandrill,
Alison Limerick,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fat Boys,
Barry Ungar,
Lightning Bolt,
Iggy Pop,
Mad Mike,
Clear Light,
X-102,
Henry Cow,
Connie Case,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Grey Daturas,
Crooked Eye,
Kurtis Blow,
The Residents,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Bar-Kays,
H. Thieme,
Fifty Foot Hose,
X-101,
Section 25,
Faust,
Mark Hollis,
The Busters,
The Neon Judgement,
Hasil Adkins,
Scion,
Gang Green,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Young Rascals,
Bluetip,
Patti Smith,
The Motions,
Wasted Youth,
The Zeros,
The Monks,
Sun Ra,
Von Mondo,
Unwound,
Kerri Chandler,
Arcadia,
Das Ding,
Vainqueur,
Al Stewart,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.