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 Ivory Coast and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Whodini to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jawbox,
Underground Resistance,
Bush Tetras,
Jerry's Kids,
Neu!,
Avey Tare,
Warren Ellis,
Simply Red,
Maurizio,
Barclay James Harvest,
Niagra,
Juan Atkins,
Charles Mingus,
X-101,
Parry Music,
Andrew Hill,
Max Romeo,
Albert Ayler,
Mars,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mandrill,
Eddi Front,
Thee Headcoats,
Joyce Sims,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Talk Talk,
Terry Callier,
Kurtis Blow,
Wally Richardson,
Theoretical Girls,
The Knickerbockers,
Cluster,
Skaos,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sam Rivers,
Radio Birdman,
Pierre Henry,
Bill Near,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
T.S.O.L.,
The American Breed,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Arcadia,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Fall,
Henry Cow,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aaron Thompson,
Ultra Naté,
Q65,
Organ,
David Axelrod,
Rotary Connection,
The Neon Judgement,
Barbara Tucker,
Pere Ubu,
Susan Cadogan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.