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 Tunisia and from Lille.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Jakarta.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba 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 Blake Baxter to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
X-102,
Davy DMX,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Alarm Clocks,
Robert Görl,
Erasure,
Patti Smith,
World's Most,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yusef Lateef,
Scan 7,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Derrick May,
Lalann,
Suicide,
kango's stein massive,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Byron Stingily,
Gang Green,
The Misunderstood,
Television Personalities,
Faraquet,
Radio Birdman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Anakelly,
the Sonics,
Idris Muhammad,
Yellowson,
Derrick Morgan,
U.S. Maple,
Pulsallama,
Man Parrish,
Sparks,
The Slackers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
DJ Sneak,
Hot Snakes,
Q and Not U,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yazoo,
Archie Shepp,
The Five Americans,
The Fugs,
Donald Byrd,
DJ Style,
Iggy Pop,
Reagan Youth,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Index,
Tommy Roe,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mission of Burma,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Modern Lovers,
The Names,
Cheater Slicks,
Godley & Creme,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Unwound,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.