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 Cuba and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sällskapet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Smiths,
The Index,
Mark Hollis,
Supertramp,
Avey Tare,
Magazine,
Minnie Riperton,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Vladislav Delay,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rites of Spring,
The Gladiators,
Curtis Mayfield,
Reagan Youth,
Jacob Miller,
Dark Day,
Peter & Gordon,
Yusef Lateef,
Crash Course in Science,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Malaria!,
Radiohead,
The Barracudas,
The Trojans,
The Slackers,
X-101,
Dennis Brown,
B.T. Express,
Cluster,
Quantec,
Wasted Youth,
The Moleskins,
David Bowie,
Maleditus Sound,
Mad Mike,
H. Thieme,
The Invisible,
Moby Grape,
Lou Reed,
Rod Modell,
Desert Stars,
Los Fastidios,
Don Cherry,
F. McDonald,
Flash Fearless,
Eve St. Jones,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Red Krayola,
Talk Talk,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Shoche,
Model 500,
Steve Hackett,
Aaron Thompson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Seeds,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mandrill,
Eric Copeland,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.