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 Equatorial Guinea and from Seoul.
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 Bremen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Radiohead to the funk 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Model 500,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bad Manners,
Jerry's Kids,
Sexual Harrassment,
This Heat,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Barracudas,
Kerri Chandler,
The Gories,
Excepter,
The Durutti Column,
Second Layer,
Chrome,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Marc Almond,
Q65,
Swell Maps,
Scrapy,
Flamin' Groovies,
48th St. Collective,
The Cure,
MC5,
Matthew Bourne,
June Days,
Faust,
Danielle Patucci,
Panda Bear,
Quando Quango,
Livin' Joy,
a-ha,
Eric Copeland,
The Fall,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Traffic Nightmare,
Albert Ayler,
Nas,
Connie Case,
Angry Samoans,
The Saints,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scion,
Graham Central Station,
Jawbox,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tomorrow,
The Angels of Light,
Lindisfarne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bauhaus,
Cheater Slicks,
The Toasters,
New Age Steppers,
Black Bananas,
Theoretical Girls,
Susan Cadogan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.