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 Somalia and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 Dorothy Ashby to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Shuggie Otis,
Cal Tjader,
Yusef Lateef,
the Slits,
Carl Craig,
Pantaleimon,
Arthur Verocai,
The Slackers,
Heaven 17,
Buzzcocks,
Sixth Finger,
Swans,
B.T. Express,
Funkadelic,
Traffic Nightmare,
D'Angelo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Agent Orange,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Aural Exciters,
Franke,
Trumans Water,
Skarface,
The Leaves,
Derrick Morgan,
Laurel Aitken,
Boredoms,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Alison Limerick,
Crash Course in Science,
The Cowsills,
DNA,
Darondo,
Q and Not U,
Cheater Slicks,
Spandau Ballet,
Dave Gahan,
Radiopuhelimet,
Y Pants,
Rekid,
Stockholm Monsters,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Freddie Wadling,
Index,
Eurythmics,
Livin' Joy,
Hardrive,
Soul Sonic Force,
Thompson Twins,
Gang Gang Dance,
Blake Baxter,
L. Decosne,
Donny Hathaway,
8 Eyed Spy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Terry Callier,
Ken Boothe,
Prince Buster,
Man Parrish,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Detroit Cobras,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.