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 Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lalo Schifrin to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Faraquet,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Moon,
Arab on Radar,
Yazoo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scrapy,
Judy Mowatt,
Groovy Waters,
Alton Ellis,
Smog,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gil Scott Heron,
ABBA,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bush Tetras,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Donny Hathaway,
Jacques Brel,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eric Copeland,
Ituana,
Bang On A Can,
This Heat,
The Neon Judgement,
Joyce Sims,
Ronan,
Rekid,
Todd Terry,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Magma,
Jawbox,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Zeros,
The Misunderstood,
The Vogues,
Country Teasers,
Fat Boys,
Agitation Free,
Amazonics,
Little Man,
Derrick Morgan,
Bill Near,
Sparks,
The Buckinghams,
Sällskapet,
Unrelated Segments,
Gang Green,
Graham Central Station,
The Associates,
X-101,
Pantaleimon,
The Kinks,
Isaac Hayes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Robert Hood,
Susan Cadogan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joey Negro,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.