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 Namibia and from Winnipeg.
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 Tokyo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Idris Muhammad to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo 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 marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Nik Kershaw,
Marshall Jefferson,
Drexciya,
Schoolly D,
Jacob Miller,
Siglo XX,
AZ,
La Düsseldorf,
Groovy Waters,
Archie Shepp,
The Alarm Clocks,
David McCallum,
Juan Atkins,
Crash Course in Science,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Toasters,
Davy DMX,
Arcadia,
The Seeds,
Half Japanese,
KRS-One,
Vainqueur,
Andrew Hill,
Little Man,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Grandmaster Flash,
Royal Trux,
Slick Rick,
Deepchord,
John Coltrane,
Freddie Wadling,
The Blackbyrds,
the Normal,
Robert Hood,
Erasure,
Letta Mbulu,
Popol Vuh,
Unrelated Segments,
The Smoke,
Fear,
Mandrill,
Altered Images,
Depeche Mode,
Reuben Wilson,
Amon Düül,
Byron Stingily,
Maleditus Sound,
Arthur Verocai,
Pylon,
Scion,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Hasil Adkins,
Brothers Johnson,
Bad Manners,
Blake Baxter,
Radio Birdman,
Cameo,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.