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 South Sudan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
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 snare 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 Rapeman to the grime 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Matthew Bourne,
The Gun Club,
Buzzcocks,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Slits,
The Motions,
Mandrill,
Boz Scaggs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pantytec,
Icehouse,
Barbara Tucker,
Scratch Acid,
Echospace,
Average White Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Zeros,
The Birthday Party,
Jeff Lynne,
Lee Hazlewood,
Grey Daturas,
Brand Nubian,
Blancmange,
Warsaw,
Laurel Aitken,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Amon Düül II,
DJ Sneak,
Boredoms,
The Skatalites,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fortunes,
Livin' Joy,
Al Stewart,
Anthony Braxton,
Rapeman,
Underground Resistance,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Skriet,
Sällskapet,
Brick,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Happenings,
Ludus,
Sight & Sound,
Make Up,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
EPMD,
Suicide,
U.S. Maple,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wally Richardson,
World's Most,
The Flesh Eaters,
Heaven 17,
Los Fastidios,
Funkadelic,
Leonard Cohen,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.