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 Gabon and from Philadelphia.
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 Delhi and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Tom Boy to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Robert Görl,
Skriet,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Shoche,
Television,
Outsiders,
Brothers Johnson,
The Names,
Sex Pistols,
Terry Callier,
Fear,
The Slackers,
Byron Stingily,
Gang Green,
John Cale,
DJ Style,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Soft Cell,
Jacob Miller,
The Leaves,
Sister Nancy,
Joyce Sims,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Litter,
Peter and Kerry,
Sparks,
Bob Dylan,
Kaleidoscope,
Goldenarms,
Mars,
Anakelly,
Basic Channel,
The United States of America,
Bang On A Can,
Monks,
Sound Behaviour,
Nils Olav,
Janne Schatter,
Aural Exciters,
Trumans Water,
Rakim,
Maleditus Sound,
The Black Dice,
The Dirtbombs,
Joy Division,
Tubeway Army,
Drive Like Jehu,
Parry Music,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
OOIOO,
Lee Hazlewood,
Oneida,
Marine Girls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Urselle,
Skarface,
Lucky Dragons,
The Misunderstood,
Cheater Slicks,
New York Dolls,
Au Pairs,
The Music Machine,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.